All For You
by tweedledee123
Summary: Finn and Ella are two friends separated in a freak storm. Thinking the other is dead, they are both forced on a search for the Fountain of Youth by pirates, and end up going on the adventure of their lives. Okay, so there are pairings, JOC OCOC WE. Enjoy!
1. Wishing

This is my first fanfic, so I would be EXTREMELY happy if I recieved reviews...

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own POTC, or any characters, places, things, etc. related. Oh well.

Okay, so I was re-reading this chapter, and realized how long it dragged...so I've re-written it! Enjoy.

* * *

To this day, I still can't understand how we became friends. She was loud and outgoing, I was quiet and tended to be shy. She was emotional and dramatic, I was reserved and private. She wanted to do the impossible, I remembered the practical. She was the doer, I was the dreamer. I suppose the saying "opposites attract" held some truth to our relationship. Where she was weak, I was strong. Where I was afraid, she was fearless. 

Her name was Eleonora Bronte. I just called her Ella. Standing at about five two with medium brown hair and big brown eyes, she was a little ball of energy running around, laughing, screaming, and in general making known to the public exactly what she felt inside. But despite her forward behavior, she was a very caring and sweet person.

And then there was me: Winifred Delaney. I absolutely hated my name, so I just went by Winnie, or Finn. At my height of five seven and a half, I towered over my friend, feeling more or less like the friendly giant every time I was with her. My dark brown hair contrasted with my light complexion, which was sprinkled with fading freckles and set with two deep, dark blue eyes. As said, I was quiet, but observant, taking everything and revealing nothing. I preferred it this way; you learned more. I was usually happy, and loved to laugh, but would hide my anger or sadness, mostly because I hate being pitied.

We lived in a small town, the type where your math teacher is friends with your mom and the surgeon is your next door neighbor. I loved the place like none other. After moving from a big city where the smog was so heavy you couldn't tell the sky was blue, the mountains and the endless crystal blue above me set me free. I could never dream of living anywhere that would confine me to a small space, like an island. The thought scared me like none other.

Of course, living in a small town did have its downfalls, such as nothing to do except run around a play tag. Frankly, that game became old by the time I was out of elementary school, and at seventeen, the second best thing was to walk around town. So that's where we were on one Saturday morning, strolling down main street, people watching, and in general having a good time.

"I don't know what to do about him. I mean, he's sweet and everything to me, but he's almost…possessive."

"If he's following you around like that, I'd say he's leaning more toward stalker," I replied vaguely. Ella was giving up her latest sob-story, the boy that wouldn't leave. She had a gift for attracting boys, much like flies to honey. Ella saw it more as a curse. She didn't ask for any of them to come to her, they just did. It was a common conversation to have her try and figure out a way to avoid the onslaught of young men that threw themselves at her feet. Throughout her life, she always made sure people knew exactly what she thought about something, but when it came to letting a guy down easy, Ella could never bring herself to do it. I found it amusing…to an extent. Every now and then I wished that some guy would pay attention to me, but hey, you can't have everything.

"I guess your right. At least school is out now…and we're officially college students! What are the chances of him following me to college?"

"Depends," I said thoughtfully, causing her eyes to bug out slightly. "I'm kidding. He's going to Stanford. I overhead him talking to one of his friends."

"Oh good. At least I know which college not to go to," breathed Ella.

"You still haven't decided?"

"Sorry I don't have my life planned out already," she answered, rolling her eyes at me. I couldn't help but smile and chuckle. I had known exactly what I was going to do;archaeology. Once again, our opposite sides shown out; I wanted to know exactly what was going on around me and what would happen to me. Ella could have cared less.

"Let's take a look at the antique store," I suggested as we walked up to it.

"You love old things way to much," teased Ella.

"I love history, which happens to include old things," I defended.

The store was small, placed inside an abandoned movie theatre. Knick-knacks and junk littered the floor and the hallway. Some might call it a chaotic mess, but I called it paradise. Who knew what treasures could be found here.

"Why, hello Winnie!" greeted Connie, the owner of the shop. We were on very good speaking terms, seeing as I visited the place quite often, and the fact she lived two houses down from me. She was an old lady, around her seventies, but still as spry as ever, despite her failing body. She had injured her knee a few years back when tripping over a vase, and it had never quite recovered, causing her to walk with a definite limp.

"Hey, Connie, how you doing?" I greeted.

"Good, good. And hello Ella. My, you two are looking lovely today."

"Thank you," we said, blushing a little. "Do you have anything new in?" I inquired hopefully.

"Actually, yes," answered Connie. She traveled to her desk and opened the drawer to reveal the strangest looking necklace I had ever beheld. Strung on it was two items, a key and what looked like a gigantic pocket watch. "Here take a look."

I took it gingerly. It was about the diameter of a tennis ball and plated with gold. Along the edge it had a crease, so it was some type of pocket watch, but when I tried to open it, it wouldn't budge. In the front there was a large ruby, encircled by topazes. "That looks rather strange," noted Ella.

"Maybe you should try getting it appraised at the Antiques Road Show," I teased. "I'd bet they'd have a hey-day with this artifact."

Connie rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "I'd probably find out it was a fake. People don't make stuff like that, and if they did, it would probably be costume jewelry."

"This doesn't feel like costume jewelry," I said. "It's heavy. Definitely real."

Connie smiled. "Well, I certainly would like to know what that key goes to. That is not an everyday key."

The key was large as well, maybe the length of my middle finger. It too was gold, and embedded all along it was emeralds. "Most certainly not an everyday key," I mumbled.

"It's beautiful," said Ella brightly. "Where did you find it?"

"Yes, where did you find this? These type of things don't just turn up on your doorstep," I asked casually.

"Actually, this one did," she began, frowning. I raised my eyebrow, not entirely believing her. "It was a few days ago, at my house. Around ten at night, I hear a knock at my door. So I open it, and guess who I see?"

"Who?" inquired Ella excitedly.

"A complete stranger! He's torn up and looks like he's about to collapse from exhaustion, so I carry him in and go to the kitchen to get him a drink of water. I come back, and he's laying down and breathing heavy, clutching this necklace in his hand. I make my husband go and call 911 and I try and talk to the man. Well, he comes back into consciousness, and gasps 'Don't let them get it! They can't have the key!', then he goes into a coma. The hospital called yesterday and said he died. No idea who he is or where he came from. Dressed oddly too, like he was from the Revolutionary War. Had the redcoat and everything."

I glanced at Ella, who was wide-eyed and fascinated. I couldn't help but feel sorry for the man, and a little worried about what type of crowd that necklace would attract. "So he never specified who was coming after this…key."

Connie shook her head. "I think it was nothing but a bunch of mumbo jumbo. The man was dieing, probably crazed by heat exhaustion. I'll give it to you for five bucks." She smiled knowingly as she placed it back in my had. "And don't tell me you don't want it. I can see it in your eyes. Your not going to pass up something with that type of story behind it."

Unfortunately, Connie was right, and she knew it. Something like that was too good to pass up, the type of buy I could never resist. I paid the five dollars and bought the greatest adventure of my life.

* * *

It had been a month since I had bought the necklace, and no creepy serial killer or ax murderer had shown up on my door step asking for it yet. I couldn't seem to make the pocket watch open, however. It didn't look that hard, just pull between the cracks like you would a locket, but it just wouldn't budge. Patience was not one of my virtues, and I quickly gave up in frustration, only to have Ella give her money's worth, which of course was not successful. 

So I carried it around on the chain with me. I kept the key in my pocket, hoping that I might be able to find whatever it unlocked, though it was highly unlikely.

It was a few days before my eighteenth birthday, a day I had been waiting for with more excitement than I could contain. Finally, I could be legally independent and free. A new movie had just come out, something to do with western train robberies, and looked rather good. I had always loved action/adventure movies, and this one would hopefully live up to my expectations. So I decided to treat myself for my birthday and go see it, of course bring my best friend along. Ella and I were walking along main street again toward the movie theatre, talking and laughing. She had finally confronted the guy who had been, quite frankly, stalking her, and he was no longer an issue. Just another member of her fan-club of rejects.

We passed the antique store, and as Ella started talking about how she was thinking about going into film-making for a major, my mind slipped back to the pocket-watch and key I had acquired, and the mystery shrouding it. A sudden wave of unease swept through me and my breath caught in my throat. Something about these two objects was very strange…

"You okay?" asked Ella worriedly. So she had noticed my temporary loss of breath.

"Yeah, I'm okay," I dismissed casually, searching quickly for something to talk about. Ella wasn't easy to shake off when it came to instances like these.

"It's about that key, isn't it?" she pried. "Maybe you shouldn't have bought it, even if it was five bucks."

"Nonsense. The guy had gone mad, the one who had it. These are utterly harmless," I covered. I believed most of what I said; who really cared about a defective pocket-watch and a key without a lock. Stuff like that didn't happen here in this small town.

But I could feel the uneasiness creeping to the surface again. My gut told me something was going to happen. My intuition was rarely wrong.

We had come to a billboard, now filled with fliers from all the different colleges. I glanced up and saw one praising from England. "I wish I could go to England, especially the early 18th century," I said. "By the coast or somewhere like that."

Ella gave me a confused look. "And if that wasn't random…"

"No, you don't understand. Times were changing then, everywhere really. People were becoming less rural and more urban. Technology was popping up, mercantilism was growing, education growing. Imagine what a time it would be like to live in. A lot more exciting than now."

"Why England?"

I smiled. "I don't know. I've always loved England, even if I've never been there."

"Then I wish I could go there with you," responded Ella quietly. "I don't know what I would do without you." I locked eyes with her and felt a rush of emotion and love for her, like one would feel for a close family member. We turned away, both smiling.

"Me too," was my answer.

And that's when I saw them, out of the corner of my eye, advancing steadily in our direction. Three of them, dressed in black and wearing sunglasses. They appeared absolutely villainous.

"Who are those men?" asked Ella, who had obviously noticed them as well. "Why are they coming toward us?"

"I don't know. Lets walk," I answered calmly. But inside fear was gripping me, making my thoughts swim. Something was happening, and I knew that it was because of the two items.

We kept up a quick pace as we hurried toward the movie theatre, the men never faltering as they followed. It was when we had almost reached the parking lot that two more appeared twenty feet in front of us both, making a beeline toward where we were. I grabbed Ella's arm and turned her toward the left, and heading in to residential area. "Where are we going?" asked Ella.

"I don't know," I said, my voice shaking like a leaf. "But we need to get to a telephone."

Ella glanced behind us. "They're following. I think we need to just run."

"You're right," I agreed, but just as we were about to sprint off (we had both been in track and were rather fast), four men showed up in front. My mouth went dry and I froze to the spot. "We're trapped."

Simultaneously, all nine men drew pistols and pointed them at us. I could feel my face paling as I gripped harder to Ella's arm. Something was most definitely happening. I glanced down at her, her face masking my fear, yet looking like she would fight if they tried to lay a hand on her. I couldn't say that much for me; I was stuck to the spot with glue, and couldn't move a muscle.

"Finn, something is glowing," whispered Ella softly.

The men were advancing quickly, only about twenty feet away.

I glanced down at my red striped shirt and saw the glowing. It was that cursed pocket-watch again. I pulled it out, and looked back toward some of the men. They were getting ready to run at us, panic written on their faces, along with anger.

I stared at Ella with terror, she stared back, equally horrified. I had to do something.

So I rubbed the ruby that was glowing.

Everything went black. I could hear Ella's gasp of surprise.

We were tumbling…

Falling…

Spinning…

Suddenly, we hit wet. With a splash, we both fell into a pool of water. My sense of direction was skewed, I floundered and struggled against the pressure as I tried to find the sun. My head was spinning, confusion gripping my thoughts. What the heck had just happened?

I broke the surface, a ragged breath coming from my mouth as I drank the precious air. Ella popped up next to me, five feet away. "What happened?" she yelled.

I never got to answer. I heard thunder. Clouds were pouring rain, and a huge wave ripped us apart. "Ella!" I screamed. I couldn't hear her. I couldn't see her, praying, wishing I could.

It was cold, miserable. I couldn't focus.

Another wave, another sheet of rain. Darkness everywhere. Thunder.

No Ella.

* * *

"Sir, she's waking up." 

"Quickly, fetch a blanket."

I moaned and tried to sit up. Instead, a strong hand pushed me back down. I opened my eyes groggily, only to see an aging man in a tri-cornered hat frowning worriedly at me. "Easy there, miss. You've had quite a trial."

I opened my mouth to ask who exactly he was, but instead clamped my hands over it, shivering and trying to control my gag reflex. The man's eye's widened, realizing what I was trying to prevent, and quickly offered me a bucket. I heaved a few times before I could raise my head, shaking hard. I hated vomiting.

"Feel better?" he asked kindly. I nodded weakly.

"Where am I?" I asked. My voice was raspy and quiet.

"Questions another time." He stood up regally before bowing to me. "You need rest, and lots of it."

"No, I need to know," I continued frantically. "Please!"

He studied me with surprise. "You, miss, are on the _Liberator_, ship of the Royal Navy."

"What?" I asked, aghast. "Royal Navy?"

"Yes. We are just off the coast of Selsy, England."

"England?" My conversation with Ella came flooding back to me. _I wish I could go to England, especially the early 18__th__ century…By the coast or somewhere like that_. The clothes the man was wear certainly were not 21st C. I nearly fainted at the thought, but managed to keep consciousness long enough to ask one more question. "Did you find Ella?"

"There was no one with you, miss. You were all alone."


	2. Moving On

_Four years later…_

I never forget things. Everyone I meet, everything important event that happens to me, every name I hear, I remember without fail. I can forgive in a heartbeat, but I can never forget. I can heal, over time, but I won't ever forget.

This was the way it was. For four long years, I remembered that fateful afternoon. At night, I would experience parts of it again, over and over, until I woke up with tears on my face. Thankfully, these nightmares lasted only so long. As said, I can heal.

The man who rescued me was Admiral Archibald Lewis, mid-sixties, and very kind. He didn't ask many questions of where I was from, just if I had a family alive, to which I answered no. And he took me under his wing, letting me live with his family for a small time.

It was a hard time, one that I vaguely remember, one that I subconsciously blocked from my memory. I remember being called odd, crazy, a lunatic by the locals, names I'm not sure where they found, seeing as I rarely went into town. Most of my time was spent trying to learn how to behave as a young women should in English society. I loathed it, yet followed it. No point in bringing attention to one's self.

A year was spent like this. I barely functioned at the beginning. As Mrs. Lewis noted, I was not living, simply being. The grief at losing friend and home had made my mind shut down emotionally. I didn't know how I was going to go on living. I was the living dead.

Then a light shot through the clouds of misery that hung around me. Admiral Lewis had found a job for me; governess to two children of a widow, a Mrs. Pecking. Her husband had died a short while ago, and she needed someone to watch the children, for she didn't care for them much.

The job proved to be my savior. As quickly as I had plummeted into despair, I came out happy and as carefree as I had always been. In the three years that I cared for the two little girls, Isabella and Arielle, I returned to my normal self, never forgetting Ella, but allowing myself to rise above the misery.

"Where are we going, Winnie?" asked Isabella for the hundredth time. She was the youngest of the two, only six, and had the attention span of a flea.

"Port Royal," I replied airily, looking out to sea, the sapphire sky shining down merrily as the _Calico_ cut through the clear waters of the Caribbean. Mrs. Pecking had finally grown tired of her daughters, more interested in parties and fashion to care what happened to them. She was only ten years my senior, so I confronted her about it heatedly, saying that she needed to take better care of her children. In response, Widow Pecking had sent the two girls and I to go live with her niece in Port Royal, a Miss Elizabeth Swann. I was still annoyed by the action, though it had been two months already, yet at the same time satisfied. At least the children would not have to awake to a careless mother every morning, just to remember that she did not want them. Instead, I had become their mother. Isabella had only known me as her caretaker, and consequently, was not affected by leaving her mother. It was nothing more than an adventure to her. But poor Arielle knew how little her mother loved them, and knew that, by leaving, they would never see their mother again. She was twelve, old enough to understand.

I wasn't sure how I felt about leaving England. First of all, I had to be on a boat, I had to be confined. The first few days I had spent scared stiff in my room, shaking uncontrollably at the thought of being contained on a small ship for two months. Never before had something affected me like that, not even my fear for spiders. But I recovered in a few days, and was soon strolling around carelessly, laughing and talking with crew members and playing with the girls, though the unease still hung around me. But it was something I could deal and live with, a trait I had learned to use in the past four years.

"We will, in fact, be arriving there early morning tomorrow," added the Captain. He was a short man, only an inch taller than my five seven, though by their standards, I was unusually tall.

"That is good news indeed," I answered politely, cringing inside at my formality. I had changed much about my demeanor, including my speech. I was hiding behind the proper English lady mask again, and for the first time, realized that I truly hated it, and the past few years had been nothing more than a masquerade. The only people to see me for who I was were Arielle and Isabella.

"I suspected you would appreciate it." He then turned to give more orders to his crew.

I turned toward Isabella. "Are you excited to see your cousin?"

Isabella twisted a strand of hair in her hand. "I suppose. Does she have dolls for me to play with?"

"Probably."

Isabella smiled and spun around. "Then I think it will be an awesome time." I sighed, noting her use of 'awesome'. She had picked it up from me, no doubt, when the American slang was still strong in my speech. It would peek thru, along with my western accent, when I would talk for long periods of time, or get excited about something, or angry. Consequently, I rarely spoke in public, which followed with the standard set by society that women should not talk to much nor give their opinion unless asked. Another rule I hated, yet for necessity, followed.

"I sure hope so," I muttered under my breath.


	3. Starting Over

AN: Sorry if it's been kinda slow…it will get more exciting! Promise!

And thanks to Xewioso for the encouragement!

We arrived early the next morning, as expected. The sky was hazy with clouds, and a small wind was picking up, preceding a storm that was sure to come. Getting our belongs and a carriage was not a problem, and soon the girls and I were on our way to Miss Elizabeth Swann.

As I had set foot on the dock, I heard the rumors flying among the sailors. Apparently she had had some run in with pirates not long ago, only to come back and announce her engagement to the town's blacksmith. If that wasn't scandalous enough, she and her fiancé were arrested for treason, but both escaped and were rumored to have more dealings with pirates. Only Elizabeth returned, declaring that she was now a Mrs. William Turner. No one believed her.

The rumors made me a little uneasy, especially the part about pirates. If this was the type of women we were going to live with, then I wasn't so sure this was much better than Mrs. Pecking. She may have been careless and flighty, but at least we weren't living in danger. And if this lady could attract criminals, it didn't say much for her character.

The house was large, showing she was used to high society. Apparently her father used to be the governor of Port Royal, until his death at sea, which was also somewhat shrouded in mystery. The new governor was a short portly fellow who cared more about what he was going to have for supper than the safety of the settlement. The citizens were not particularly pleased with the replacement, but a new Commodore Belmont had just arrived, who apparently was quite famous and well respected. In all aspects, he was the one running Port Royal, and no one objected.

I stepped out slowly, thanked the coach driver and approached the door with Isabella and Arielle. The first thing that came to my head as I got a better look at the mansion was 'White House'. It was sparkling, clean, and perfect. I gulped nervously. _Good grief, I hope she's not a clean freak._

A butler answered the door and showed us into the parlor. It was spotless, just as I had been afraid of. I sat down gingerly, realizing a new chapter had just started in my life. What was going to happen? I never really thought about starting a new life here, in this time period, but I knew that if I wanted to survive, I needed to. The first step would be living here with the Mrs. Elizabeth Turner.

And that's when she stepped in. I was surprised at what I saw. When I had heard people talking about her, I had formed the image of her as one of those anorexic models who married some really old guy for their money, but 18th C style.

Instead, she was around my age, with dirty blonde hair that came down in large ringlets. She wore a dark blue dress, that, for her station in society, was rather plain. While her welcoming smile was warm and friendly, her eyes showed a lingering sadness. Whatever rumors concerning her personality I had heard were horridly off the mark. This lady was not a criminal, let alone a whore that some of the sailors had made her out to be.

"You must be Miss Winifred. I'm afraid my aunt didn't supply me with a surname."

I opened my mouth to answer, but paused. For the past few years, I had supplied Lewis as my surname in place of my real one, but if I wanted to start my life over instead of hiding… "Delaney. Winifred Delaney. But please just call me Winnie."

"Of course. And these are Isabella and Arielle, I assume?"

Isabella nodded excitedly then ran up to Elizabeth. "Do you have dolls?"

Elizabeth laughed. "Yes, I do. They are upstairs. I'm sure Robert can show you where they are."

Isabella jumped up and down spinning around happily. "Come on Arielle! Let's go look at the dolls!" Arielle sighed, but got up and followed the butler and Isabella out of the room. Arielle, unlike Isabella, was quiet and shy, and preferred to be with those she knew, much like I had been, or still was.

"I'm so glad you came, Winnie," said Elizabeth. "I've been so lonely for the past few months."

I smiled. I could tell she meant every word. "Of course. I'm just glad to be away from your aunt. We never hit off the way I wished we had."

She looked at me peculiarly. "Hit off?"

Mentally, I slapped myself. Even after four years, the slang kept coming back. "Got along, I mean. So, tell me what it's like here?"

Elizabeth proceeded to explain Port Royal, it's history, and how she felt about it. I listened, but only half-way. Honestly,

I was bored about two minutes into her talking. So I just nodded and smiled in all the right places. "You don't really care, do you?" she finished. I blushed, realizing she had seen through my blank expression. "Oh, goodness, we are both being so formal. It's ridiculous. Tell me about your self."

_From the way you people talk, I can't help but feel formal_, I thought to myself. "Well, I'm not sure where to begin. I'm not a particularly good conversationalist."

"You're doing it again," interrupted Elizabeth.

"What?"

"Being formal."

I smiled shyly. "Sorry. I'm just so used to it from having to be around Mrs. Pecking all the time. She always insisted that I use proper speech, even in informal conversation. I don't like her very much. Well, let's see…I'm…almost twenty two years old…I can teach…"

"Why are you faking your accent?"

I blinked. "You can tell I'm doing that?" People usually weren't that observant. Then again, I made a point never to

speak much in public lately.

"Yes, I've never heard your accent before. Where are you from?"

"America," I blurted out.

"The colonies, you mean?"

"Yes."

Elizabeth stared hard at me, making me squirm slightly. "You're hiding things…but if you don't want to tell me, that's

okay." She gave a small smile. "I'm hiding things too."

I smiled back, relieved, and at the same time, terribly curious. What was she hiding?

"Listen, I know we've just met, but you seem like an honest person," she said. "Let's not worry about these secrets until

we're ready to tell each other." She smiled warmly, and I smiled wider. "But I do want to know, do you like lobster?"

"Yes. Why?"

"That's what we're having for dinner." She stood up, fully grinning. Some of the sadness that had been there was diminishing, and something in my head told me that my life here was going to be wonderful.

Life went by smoothly for the next two months. Elizabeth and I became close friends, almost like Ella and I had been. I had never been so comfortable before in my life here. For once, I could talk like I always had, act like I wanted, and not feel like someone was there with a video-camera trying to catch me messing up.

It wasn't long until Elizabeth and I exchanged stories. I was scared to death of what she might think, but all she said was "I'm glad I'm not the only one who has had extraordinary experiences." Frankly, her story seemed much stranger than mine, and I felt like an idiot for thinking she might take me for a lunatic. At least I didn't have to deal with un-dead pirates and a husband that can only return every ten years. At any rate, it was nice to have someone believe my story, and I think she felt the same about me.

And then I met Clarissa Atherton, the governor's daughter. It was a sunny day, so I had woken up the girls and insisted that we go take a walk. After much complaining on there part and much bribing on mine, Elizabeth, them, and I were strolling peacefully along the town streets, laughing and looking at what was for sale.

"Oh, Elizabeth! I haven't seen you for so long!" exclaimed a young lady who was barreling her way through the crowd. I had to stop from laughing at the sight; she resembled a bull-dozer driving thru a pile of dirt.

"Clarissa! How nice to see you!" greeted Elizabeth stiffly. "How was your, ah, vacation in the colonies?"

"Absolutely horrid. Those people have no sense of aristocracy! The women there are so terribly outspoken and bull-headed, no charm whatsoever!" I looked Clarissa over, pursing my lips together. She was a bit larger than average, with pale skin that made her appear to be a living pastry (okay, that maybe that was a little harsh. She wasn't _that_ large.). Her hair was a rich brown, much like mine, and she was actually rather tall for the average women. Had it not been for all her makeup, she would have been a very beautiful girl. Her dress was exquisite, if not a little tight, and pearls adorned her neck.

"Well, thank heavens I'm back in Port Royal, though I wouldn't mind being London instead. Who is this?"

"Miss Winnie Delaney," I said. "We are here to live with Elizabeth. Relatives."

Clarissa smiled widely. "Oh how wonderful! I love having visitors!"

"Actually we're here to stay."

"Even better! You make sure to bring Elizabeth to that ball this week. I daresay I haven't seen you at a social event ever since those _pirates_ were here," she continued, pointing at Elizabeth. "I have so much to tell you! You would never believe who I met in Boston though--"

"Clarissa, I think your father is waving at you," interrupted Elizabeth, who was smiling slightly. "We'll try and drop by sometime tomorrow though."

Clarissa beamed and kissed us both on the cheek for a goodbye before running off to her father. "So, what do you think?" asked Elizabeth when she had left.

"She's very…lively. And straightforward."

"And excessively talkative?" Our eyes met and we both burst out laughing. "She's really very kind, though," continued Elizabeth. "She has always been very sweet to me, even with all these rumors circling. Granted, she probably never allowed enough time for anyone to say otherwise…but she has a good heart."

I smiled. Clarissa reminded me of a friend back home. She was never quiet, always moving, having to nose her way into everyone's business. But she was a good person, though a little annoying sometime. I figured that Clarissa and I would get along well enough.


	4. The Truth About Ella

AN: Thanks to everyone who has been reading lately. Now this is where the plot finally starts to pick up...sorry for the slow start.

And without further delay, on with the show!

Chapter 4

"You know, I've never been to a ball before," I said to Elizabeth as we were getting dressed. "I don't even know any of the dances."

"Don't worry about that. If Clarissa is going to be there, we'll be talking most of the time anyway."

I laughed and turned back to the mirror to let the maids finish my hair. We were getting ready for said ball. Isabella had been very mad that she was not invited, and I felt sorry for Robert, who was now handling the little girl and her temper tantrum. She could be very uncooperative if she wanted to. Arielle wasn't too disappointed. She hated balls, mostly because they reminded her of her mother, and how she would always disappear to them.

"I hear that Commodore Belmont is going to be there," said Elizabeth. "He's single you know."

I snorted. "He may be successful and handsome as you say, but older men are not for me. What is he, like forty or something?"

"Don't worry, I was just playing with you. I could never see you marrying him. He's extremely…formal."

"Definitely not for me," I stated. "If I'm going to get married, that man needs to be kind, funny, respectful, and know when to have a good time. I refuse to marry anyone up tight."

"I'll keep that in mind tonight then," giggled Elizabeth. "Are you almost ready to leave?"

I stood up to look at myself in the mirror. My gown was a golden color with small white flower embroidered at the hem and sleeves. I frowned, remembering the simplified fashion of modern prom dresses, and how easy they were to wear. I felt that I was carrying five sacks of potatoes on my body. Even my day dresses weren't this heavy. "I suppose," I answered painfully. "I really hope no one asks me to dance. I don't think I'll be able to move."

"You look lovely. And don't worry, you'll get used to the dress."

"It would be easier if I didn't look like a balloon." Elizabeth looked at me strangely. "Sorry. Modern thing." Shrugging, she went through the door, me trailing behind. She was used to my odd metaphors now, and didn't usually ask for an explanation, a trait I was very grateful for. To explain balloons, television, etc. would have been a chore for me, and I don't think Elizabeth would have understood anyway.

We arrived at the ball and filed through the door. Clarissa was standing there like a watch dog, and leapt upon us the minute we came by. She was a very interesting, if not forceful character.

But it was thanks to her that time went relatively quickly. Her chatter distracted me enough that I was able to say that I was enjoying myself, despite how awkward I felt in the dress.

"Oo, look, there's Commodore Belmont! Isn't he handsome?" declared Clarissa. I turned and saw a tall man walking toward us. His hair was graying, but his square jaw and bright blue eyes were indeed rather nice to look at. However there was something about him…while Clarissa giggled and greeted him, inwardly I grimaced. Something was not right about him. Behind him was a young man, but my view was blocked.

"Pleasure to see you, Mrs. Turner, Miss Atherton. And who is this lovely lady?" smiled the Commodore when he approached us.

"Winifred Delaney," I answered softly. From where I stood, his smile seemed a little too friendly, as if he was hiding something.

He took my hand and kissed it gently. "Once again, the pleasure is mine."

"Thank you," I said.

He cocked his head to his side. "You have a strange accent. Is it Scottish?"

"No. I come from the colonies, down South. There are many Scots there, though," I answered, bluffing the whole thing. Thank heavens I knew my history.

"Ah. And here is Lieutenant Tremaine," introduced the Commodore. It was the young man who had followed him here. He was about my height, clean-shaven, and slim, reminding me of Peter from the Narnia movie.

"Hello, my ladies." He turned to me. "I have been watching you and have been wanting to meet for sometime. May I ask you to dance?"

I blushed at the attention and smiled nervously. "I'm afraid I'm not very good."

He smiled. "Don't worry. I'm good at leading." I accepted his hand, trying to ignore the large smile that had crept onto Elizabeth's face and the giggle that escaped Clarissa's mouth. I had to admit though, I was rather pleased with his sudden interest in me.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Richard. And you are Finn."

I narrowed my eyes. "You know my nick-name. How…?"

"Do you know an Ella Bronte?"

Time froze. I couldn't breath normally. Ella…I felt as though a lightening bolt had struck me. The waves, the thunder, the dark, all came flooding back…her screaming…

"Yes," I gasped. "Yes, I do."

"I think it would be better if we sat," muttered Richard. "You are looking pale."

"I…how…" I couldn't form a sentence.

"She told me about you. She thought you were dead."

I was silent for a moment as I gathered myself together. "I thought she was dead. How did you meet her?"

"I was on the ship that found her. She was dying when we did, floating on a piece of flotsam. In fact, it was the Commodore's ship."

"And she is okay now? She is recovered?" I asked.

"Very. She is living with my parents, helping to run their store."

"I don't know what to say," I whispered. Tears were forming at my eyes and I brushed them away quickly. "I need to see her. Where do your parents live?"

"Savanna." He looked at me a moment with deep brown eyes. "She told me everything."

I turned my head at him. "What do you mean?"

"She told me about how you two came here. And the Commodore."

I fiddled with my hands for a moment, suddenly uneasy. "And both of you believed her?"

"Yes. From the state we found her in, and the clothes, it was very believable. Despite how unlikely it seems."

I smiled. Admiral Lewis had asked about my clothing when he had found me. I simply pretended to have gotten amnesia, giving me an excuse to not explain anything.

"I'm…shocked."

"So it appears. We will be heading toward Savanna after we leave Port Royal. I can inform her of your whereabouts."

I smiled and almost kissed him with joy. "Really? Oh my gosh, I don't know how in the world I could possibly thank you! I've missed her so much!" I pulled him into the tightest hug I could manage before kissing him on the cheek. "I can't believe…she's alive…and…" I pulled him into another hug, on the verge of crying.

"I may be able to arrange a way for you to come with us," Richard offered as I hugged him. "It would save time, and you could see her sooner. But I won't promise anything."

"It doesn't matter," I said. "As long as she knows I'm here, that I'm alive…" I could feel tears falling slowly, but I laughed happily. "After all these years of worrying…I never dreamed that…this…" I hugged him again, crying openly now. I may have seemed very clingy, but I didn't care. Ella was alive, and in the Caribbean.

Richard hugged back. "It appears Mrs. Turner is approaching." I turned to see Elizabeth strutting over, a worried expression on her face. Beyond her I noticed the Commodore, with a peculiar expression on his face. A feeling of unease swept over me at the sight of him, but vanished quickly. It was silly, to be afraid of this Commodore. He was a good man, he had saved Port Royal in every respect, at least that's the way the townspeople made it sound.

"Winnie, are you all right?"

"Yes," I cried. "I'm wonderful." I smiled back at Richard. "Thank you so much. Please come visit me tomorrow. Our house is on top of the hill, right next to the governor's mansion." I stood up, wiped the remaining tears, and dragged Elizabeth out into the night air.

"What in the world…" she began, but I silenced her.

"Remember Ella? My friend? Remember how I said I thought she was dead?" Elizabeth nodded, then smiled as realization dawned on her.

"She's alive, isn't she?" I grinned and nodded quickly. Elizabeth squealed in glee and squeezed me. I hugged back, relief and elation flooding me. My best friend was alive. Nothing could possibly ruin my life at this moment.


	5. To the Rescue

AN: Thanks again for reading everyone. Just remember to keep reviewing! They help a lot!

And now I present: Chapter 5!

* * *

The next day the sun was bright and the air fresh. I about danced down the stairs to breakfast, and jumped for glee when I saw Richard arriving from the window. Elizabeth was just as excited; after hearing me talk about Ella, she wanted to meet her just as much. I hurried the girls out to the garden to play and scurried into the room where Richard waited with Elizabeth. But I stopped short when I saw the expression on his face. He was standing, holding his hat, and looked like he had been crying.

"Winnie," he greeted in a raspy voice.

"What happened?" I asked slowly, fearing the answer.

Richard breathed deeply. "I can't stay for long. The Commodore is leaving within the hour. We have just received news from Savanna. Pirates have attacked, left the town in shambles."

"What was the name of the ship?" interjected Elizabeth worriedly.

Richard furrowed his brow, and wiped away a spare tear. "The, the _Black Pearl_ I believe."

"No…" exclaimed Elizabeth. "Jack would never do that…he's not that cruel…"

Jack Sparrow. I remembered Elizabeth talking about him in her stories, and frowned. She had made him out to be a halfway decent man, not someone who would destroy a town.

"It wasn't him, it was another," corrected Richard. "A Captain Barbossa, I believe. The soldiers believed he was just ransacking the town…but there was a kidnapping."

"Ella," I breathed. I knew it at once, from the way Richard looked at me. A wave of terror flew thru me and I sat down, shaking and trembling. But as soon as it had come, it left and was replaced with an unknown sense of determination. I had sat around too long, moping and grieving. I was done with that; now was time for action. I was no longer a scared eighteen year old being chased by shady men, I was a grown women who wasn't going to have someone holding my hand and leading me like a child. I was going to stop watching from the side-lines and join in the game of life. I was going to stop dreaming. "I need to save her."

"And that is where the Commodore is headed off to," said Richard. "Don't worry, we'll be back in no time, with Ella."

"If you are so confident in the Commodore, why were you crying?" I asked.

He blushed, a strong crimson creeping to his neck. I looked into his eyes, and suddenly realized I was not the only one who cared what happened to Ella. I smiled slightly, though somwwhat peeved at the realization that I wasn't going to be going. "Best of luck then."

He returned in the expression slightly and bowed. "Thank you. I'll be back, along with Ella. I promise."

"Wait!" I called. Something had dawned on me, something that didn't make sense. "What in the world would the pirates want with Ella?"

Richard frowned, as if to decide whether or not to tell us. "I think it might…listen, don't repeat this to anyone." Elizabeth and I looked at each other and nodded. "When we rescued Ella, and after she explained her…situation to us, the Commodore asked a favor of her. He had a key, and he asked for her to keep it safe for him. Of course she agreed."

"And you think that is what the pirates want?" said Elizabeth. "What does the key go to?"

Richard shrugged. "I don't know. Only the Commodore knows that answer, and he hasn't shared that with anyone. I need to leave. Good day."

I grabbed him before he left and hugged him. "Be safe." He smiled weakly and left out the door. I felt like I was watching a brother go to his death. Yes, I had only met him yesterday night, but there was something trustworthy and welcoming about him, and I was genuinely worried that he might die in his attempt to rescue Ella.

I turned to Elizabeth, who, to my utter astonishment, was grinning. "What in the world are you smiling about?"

"You want to go save her yourself, don't you?" After a moment, I nodded, then slumped back into the library. "I know how you feel."

"It's just…I have this feeling that if I'm not there, something is going to go dreadfully wrong, and I won't be there to fix it."

"You can't fix everything. Some things are just out of your control."

I looked at Elizabeth, and sighed, feeling very defeated. "I don't like things to be like that."

"Listen, the Commodore is a very capable man. I have met Barbossa before, you remember, from the stories I've told you. He's not invincible."

I stood up and started pacing. "I don't think I trust him entirely, the Commodore I mean. Yes, I believe he's capable, but…I don't know. I wish I knew what that key went to, and why he gave it to Ella, and why he hasn't mentioned it to anyone. If I had something that important, I would never keep it far away from me. The whole situation looks very shady to me." This was true the pocket-watch and key were always on my person, usually in my chemise.

"Whatever _it_ is, Barbossa obviously wants it as well," mused Elizabeth. "It must be some sort of treasure then. Family treasure, I suppose."

"Possibly. That still doesn't explain why he gave the key to Ella." Elizabeth nodded in agreement and stood up.

"Whatever the case, we really aren't concerned in it. You just want Ella safe, right?" I nodded, but the treasure was making me terribly curious. "The Commodore will make sure she is. You can't ask for much more than that. The past few months of my life have taught me something: sometimes it's better to sit back and let others figure out the problems. You can lose too many precious things if you're there, trying to fix them yourself."

I looked down, knowing who she was talking about. "I've sat back my whole life. I don't want to lose Ella, only to think that I could have done something to save her." We stood in silence for a moment before I added: "You could have really lost him, you know. Will might have actually died if you hadn't been there. You never know." Elizabeth jerked her head up at me. I couldn't tell what she was thinking, but sadness was on the rim of her eyes, threatening to pour out.

"Maybe you're right." She looked at me for a moment. "You don't like sitting back, watching other's do the work."

"Why do you think that?"

"It's not in your nature. Yet you say you've done it your whole life. Why?"

"I don't know," I whispered. "I suppose I was scared."

"Of what?"

I bit my lip, thinking it over. "I was afraid of messing up and looking like a fool. But I'm not afraid anymore." Elizabeth grinned slightly and put a hand on my shoulder.

"You're no fool."


	6. Keys

AN: Just in case you become confused, we will be taking a momentary sidetrack from our dear Winifred to introduce none other than Ella! Enjoy.

* * *

Ella woke up groggily, blinking at the bright light that was shining in her eyes, only to realize it was the sun. She sat up and studied her surrounds, which happened to be a cell. _Oh yeah, I was kidnapped._ For whatever reason, the prospect wasn't as scary as it could have been.

She began playing with the hem of her dress. The past few years had been nothing but one surprise after another, what was just one more? First, she loses her best friend in some freak accident that even she couldn't understand, is rescued by a Commodore, then ends up in the town of Savanna only to be hired by the Tremaines to help run their store. It had been tough at first. There were times she considered suicide it was so painful. She had always been completely confident in herself before, however, when Finn died, it all disappeared.

But after spending more time with Richard Tremaine, she began to heal. He was so sweet and understanding, nothing like some other boys she had met before. Not only that, but he was funny and brave, and willing to do anything for those he loved. If she wasn't going to be able to ever get home again, at least she had Richard. And the more she was with him, the less she wanted to go home.

And now she was stuck in the cell of an unknown ship for a reason she didn't understand. Did it have to do with the Tremaines? They were not connected with pirates that she knew of…

"Hello, poppet," greeted a grimy, balding pirate. He smiled, showing a set of rotting teeth. Ella nearly gagged, but was able to compose herself before she did.

"What?" snapped Ella. There was really no point in being polite to these monsters.

"My, you're a feisty one. But the Cap'n has dealt with that type before. Speaking o' which, he wants you in his cabin. Wants to 'discuss' things with you."

"No. I'm not going to go."

"He said you might say that. So he told me to tell you…" the pirate paused for a moment "…I don't rightly remember…oh yes, if you don't come, the crew can 'ave their way with you." He smiled evilly. "Your choice."

Ella stood up quickly. "I'll go to him. Now let me out." The pirate did so, muttering something under his breath as he led her up onto deck. It was early morning, and much of the crew was already up and working. As she approached the captain's quarters, they cat called and whistled. In response, she glared at them and walked straighter than before.

"Cap'n, she's here," announced the pirate to the closed door. A muffled 'enter' was heard, and Ella walked thru the door defiantly.

"How dare you threaten me!" she shouted at the captain, whose back was now turned to her.

He faced her slowly, grinning. His hair was thin and wispy, covered by a large hat with a feather. He sported a beard, which was also thin. However, he was quite tall, maybe six two or three, a height Ella had not seen for quite some time. Against her five two, he was a giant, and quite menacing. "I don't recall threatening you." The voice was low and raspy, but had humor on the edges.

For whatever reason, Ella was not particularly afraid of this man. "You know perfectly well what I'm referring to. If I don't come to see you, than the crew may have their way with me."

The captain frowned. "I didn't say that."

Ella and the captain turned toward the balding pirate, who shuffled his feet nervously and coughed. "I thought it was worth a shot. I'll just leave."

"Now that's cleared up," smiled the captain, "why don't you have a seat."

"I like standing."

"Suit yourself." He sat, staring at Ella. "My name is Captain Barbossa. I'm afraid that I am unaware of yours."

"That's none of your concern." Ella glared, then asked, "How did you know to kidnap me if you didn't know my name?"

"That's none of your concern," the captain copied.

"Ella Bronte," she replied after a moment.

"Very well. I don't suppose you know why you're here. Am I right?"

"Yes."

Barbossa smiled. "I didn't think you would. Rumor has it that you have a key of great value."

Ella blinked. The only key she had was the one the Commodore had given her for safe-keeping. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He pulled the key out of his coat. It was rather small for a key, actually. The straight of it was solid ruby while the teeth were gold. When the Commodore had given it to her, she had asked who had made it, for it was very peculiar. He had said he didn't know. "Oh," was all she could answer.

"Oh? So you do know about it."

"Not really," muttered Ella. "I was given it for safe-keeping. He didn't tell me about it."

Barbossa furrowed his brow and growled. "By whom?"

"A Commodore." No point in lying. She was horrid at it anyway.

Barbossa rose and began pacing around her. "Are you sure he didn't tell you about it. Did he mention a map, another key?"

Ella squirmed in her shoes. This man was obviously not hearing what he wanted, which could put her life in grave danger. "What did these objects look like?"

Barbossa stopped in front of her, his eyes glaring from above. Ella had to tilt her head to almost 180 degrees to glare back. "The key is rumored to be embedded with emeralds. No one knows about the map, except for this Commodore friend, I assume." Ella's eyes widened at the description. Finn had had a key with emeralds, the one that came with that cursed pocket-watch. Unfortunately, Barbossa noted the reaction. "I thought you might remember."

"The owner is dead," Ella whispered, her voice cracking. Recalling that night was bringing back old wounds, terrible wounds.

"Excellent. That will make it all the easier to retrieve."

"No, it won't. She drowned off the coast of England, along with the key."

Barbossa's expression was unreadable. "What did you say?"

"The key is gone, with the owner. You won't be able to get it."

Barbossa grabbed an apple from a barrel next to him and took a bite out of it. "Looks we have some traveling to do." Grabbing Ella's arm, he barreled out to the deck. Addressing the crew, he shouted, "Turn this ship to due north. We're going to take a little visit to an old friend, Miss Odessa."

The crew whooped and immediately scrambled to obey orders. "Whose Miss Odessa?" asked Ella sharply.

Barbossa only smiled. "Someone who is going to get that key back for us."


	7. Switching Sides

AN: Sorry this chapter is short, but it's important! I hope all you out there are enjoying the story, and remember to review!

* * *

Richard paced the length of the deck for the umpteenth time. All he could think about was Ella…was she safe? Dry? Alive? It was night and they had only been out to sea for three days. Three excruciating days for Richard, especially since he knew it would take another week to reach Savanna, and from there they would need to track Barbossa.

Why would Barbossa want Ella? Richard was almost positive that it was because of that key. Why did the Commodore even give her that key? What did it go to? These were questions Richard had delayed asking for years now, knowing that technically, it was none of his concern. _But what if the Commodore doesn't know Ella was kidnapped for the key?_

The thought was an interesting one indeed. The key was just speculation on his part. According to the navy, this venture was to arrest a criminal, and if they happened to rescue Ella in the process, so be it. Maybe he would mention it to the Commodore in the morning.

Sighing, he began to approach the stairs that led below deck to his bed. He really wasn't suppose to be up at this time of night, even if he was a lieutenant. But then something caught his eye.

He really couldn't believe he didn't notice it before. The large white sails of another boat were right next to the navy ship the _Hildegard_. Richard looked toward the Commodore's cabin, and noticed light seeping through the closed blinds. _Odd, he shouldn't be up either._ After a moment, Richard crouched down behind a barrel, and squinting, read the name of the other ship. The _Midas_. He frowned, recognizing the name. It belonged to a rising pirate captain by the name of Dawson. What was he doing so close to a navy vessel? Surely he wasn't foolish enough to attack.

And that's when the Commodore stepped out. Strutting to the side, he made a motion with his hand, and slowly, a plank came down from the other side, allowing Captain Dawson to waltz across and greet the Commodore.

He was a bulky fellow with a golden goatee. Age wise, Dawson did not seem particularly old, maybe late thirties, unusual for a pirate captain. In his experience, Richard had seen very few successful pirates who had started at a young age; most were caught and hung, while the older fellows, usually deserters of the navy, were the ones that remained alive and kicking.

Richard couldn't believe what he was seeing. The two men shook hands formally, and then bowed their heads together and spoke softly, too soft for Richard to hear. Finally, they broke.

"I want a pardon for me and me crew and a chest of gold as payment," said Dawson.

"I will see what can be done," answered the Commodore. "Make sure the crew understands the directions. I don't want the wrong person."

"Of course, Commodore. Where you planning to rendezvous? "

"Sail toward Savanna. We will find you." Dawson tipped his hat and, smiling crookedly, stepped onto the plank.

"One question, Commodore. What is it exactly you're going after?"

"I don't believe questions were part of the agreement, Captain Dawson. Goodnight."

Both men departed, leaving Richard hidden in the shadows and stunned. Whatever had just happened, it certainly was not right. If someone had suggested before that the Commodore would have made dealings with the very people he hunted, Richard would have laughed in their face. But now…

One thing was for certain: whatever the Commodore did next, Richard was no longer on his side.


	8. The Memorable Captain Jack Sparrow

AN: And here is the chapter I'm sure many have been anticipating, because now our beloved captain is in the picture. I now have a newfound respect for anyone who attempts to write Jack in character, for it is nearly impossible, and I'm not sure if I've managed to give him justice. Oh well, enough of my rambling. Enjoy!

* * *

For a week, Elizabeth and I waited with anticipation for any news concerning the Commodore and his ship, the _Hildegard_. Nothing came.

"It could take months to find Barbossa," soothed Elizabeth. "The Black Pearl is the fastest ship in the Caribbean."

"I know. I just wish there was some way I could go and help," I murmured in frustration. "And I keep wondering about that key."

"So do I," said Elizabeth. "To think such a small item could cause such an uproar."

We walked back to the house in silence. There really wasn't much to say.

* * *

It was midnight. A man approached a large house with a light in one of the upper rooms. He was worn out, and really only wanted somewhere to go to sleep. But it had to be safe. Sauntering up to the door, he tried the handle. It was locked, as was expected. He considered ringing the bell, but looked back up to the lighted room. Why not give the mistress of the house a late night surprise? After testing the ivy that clung to the walls, he slowly began his ascent to the room.

* * *

I sat at the desk in my room staring at the book in front of me that I was attempting to read. I couldn't go to sleep, I wasn't tired. My mind was too busy thinking of what was happening to Ella right now. Was she still alive? My gut told me she was. A frustrated sigh escaped my lips and I snuffed out the candle that sat at my desk. Slowly, I crawled into the soft sheets of my bed, sleep still evading my itching eyes. 

Then I heard it. I dull thump had landed on my balcony, and quick breathing could be heard. Someone was in my room. I sat up slightly, just enough to see past the posts of my bed. It was a man, a tall one, but that was all I could tell from the darkness. I swiftly reach for a candle stick.

The man noticed the movement and swayed over to my bed. It looked like he was drunk.

"Hello there, luv. I thought you might still be awake, so I decided to stop by for a quick greetin'."

"Get out of my room," I threatened. Okay, so maybe it sounded more like a plea, but it was the best I could manage.

"Eh? Who are you?"

In response, I threw the candle stick has hard as I could in his direction.

I missed.

"Whoa there, luv!" The man lunged himself toward me, grabbing both wrists and pinning them above my head. I struggled and managed to wiggle my way off the bed and onto the ground, with him on top of me. "HELP!!!" I shrieked.

"Shush, don't yell, please? I must be in the wrong house." I opened my mouth to shout again, but he firmly placed a grimy hand over it, stopping me. I took my free hand and threw it toward his face, punching him hard in the jaw. "AH!" he yelped, then attempted to snatch the hand back. I kneed him in the stomach, making him roll over.

I sat up and tried to crawl away, but he recovered and pinned me back down on the floor. "Now if you will just hold still and listen, I can explain everything--"

A light flooded the room, causing me to squint.

"Jack!"

It was Elizabeth, her eyes wide and shocked. I looked at the man who was now on top of me. He was tanned and rugged, sporting a red bandanna and tri-corner hat. His long hair was in dreadlocks, and his goatee was braided in two strands. So this must be the infamous Jack Sparrow. I grimaced at the sight, and smell of him. At the moment, his lip was bleeding, probably where I had punched him. He smiled winningly, flashing a few golden teeth.

I just glared back. "Get _off_ me."

"And who is this delightful young lady?" asked Jack. We were standing up now, me completely embarrassed and peeved.

"Winifred Delaney," I mumbled, still glaring. "You mind explaining why exactly you decided to attack me?"

Jack held his hands up, mocking offense. "Accusing me of such an action. You wound me." I just rolled me eyes and turned away.

"Why are you here?" asked Elizabeth.

"I believe that conversation would be better heard in the morning, seeing as it is late at night. I don't suppose you have a spare room, hm? If not, I'm willing to share." He flashed another grin at me, causing me to blush.

"I think you should put him in the stables. The stench would suit him better."

Elizabeth widened her eyes. "Goodness, Winnie…"

"You, luv, have one sharp tongue. Why not give ol' Jack a fighting chance?"

"My name is Miss Delaney, not luv," I growled. All he did was stare at me a moment longer before turning to Elizabeth. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, tucking away my anger. My temper rarely flared out, but when it did, it was usually deadly for whom ever I unleashed it upon. Generally, I could keep myself under control, but tonight, with the mix of this _pirate_ and the lack of sleep, I had to put more effort into it.

"We have a spare bedroom next to this one, Jack. I suppose you can sleep there"

"I don't suppose I could have a guard by my door? You know, just in case she has an urge to kill me during the night." He waved his hand toward me. I glared daggers toward him, yet blushing at the same time. "You are looking quite murderous," he added playfully before winking.

"Just leave my room," I insisted tiredly. Laughing, he sauntered out, giving one last smirk at me before disappearing. "I don't like him very much," I declared once I was sure he was gone.

Elizabeth just stared at me. "I have never seen you act so harsh."

"He attacked me. You didn't honestly expect me to welcome him with open arms."

She just shook her head, smiling. "No, but you won't be seeing the last of him. He's very…memorable."

* * *

"Winnie! A strange man is down stairs!" 

It was Isabella. I groaned and sat up. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"No. He asked if you were awake."

"Tell him no."

"Too late." It was Jack, standing there at my door way, grinning.

"What in the world are you doing here? This is my room." I rubbed my eyes, trying to be able to see clearly.

"As I found out so memorably last night." He stroked his lip, which was looking slightly better. "I was wondering whether you were awake yet. I wanted to try and start off on a better foot this morning, seeing as our first meeting was not particularly pleasant."

"You can start by leaving and letting me sleep," I answered. "Goodbye."

"Now, now, luv. Don't be grumpy."

"It's Miss Delaney to you. And are you trying to annoy me, or is that just your personality?"

"Or you are easily peeved, darling."

I scowled at him for a while longer, deciding it would more tactful to be quiet and calm than try and retort. It seemed this man had something to say for everything I said. "So, I assume you are the Jack Sparrow that Elizabeth has mentioned?"

"Captain, luv. Don't forget that part."

"My name is Miss Delaney, _Captain._ I'm going to only ask you one more time to call me that."

"Very well, _Miss Delaney_." A giggle was heard from Isabella, whom I turned my sleepy eyes toward. "And who is this charming young lass?" inquired Jack, strutting up to the bed.

"Isabella," she answered shyly.

"Not your daughter by any chance?"

I rolled my eyes as I flipped the covers off me. The maids were in the doorway, wide eyed and gasping at the sight of Jack in my room. "I'm her governess. Now please _leave_. I need to change, and I can't very well do it with you standing there staring."

Jack exited, tipping his hat to the maids as he passed them and chuckled. "It's nice to see you more pleasant. I'll be seeing you at breakfast then," he called back. I massaged my temples grumpily, wishing this man would just disappear. Mornings were not the forte of my existence, and was in no mood to be butting heads with Sparrow. Groaning, I walked over to the maids to let them dress me.

I had been hiding my thoughts and emotions for years. It wasn't like this man could suddenly cause me to unleash them.

* * *

"So, Jack, I would very much an explanation as to why you came parading into Winnie's room last night," said Elizabeth. It was breakfast time, and the three of us were at a small table in the parlor. The two girls were already finished eating and were now playing in the garden. 

"Ah, yes," he sighed. "First of all, I would like to point out, I thought it was your room, Lizzie. Was planning to give you a midnight surprise. However, it obviously didn't go as planned." I snorted into my porridge at this remark.

"What I truly want to know is, why are you here at Port Royal? You are still a wanted man."

"Take a guess, Mrs. Turner."

"Your ship," I answered, realization dawning on me. "The _Black Pearl_ was your ship, but Barbossa has it right now. Remember, Elizabeth? That's the ship Richard said attacked Savanna. And kidnapped Ella."

"Sharp lass," grinned Jack.

"I have to be. I'm a governess," I retorted, blushing hard.

"Oh my, your absolutely right," gasped Elizabeth. "He did take your ship. How did this happen?"

Jack's eyes grew slightly dark. "Not long after this little Davy Jones incident we had. I've been following him almost every since."

"Almost?"

Sparrow smiled mysteriously, not quite looking at us. "Have either of you heard of the Fountain of Youth?"

We nodded our heads. I was about ready to exclaim 'It doesn't exist', but after the story of Elizabeth, and my own experiences, I figured that something like the Fountain of Youth could, in fact, be quite real. "I found a map that was suppose to lead me to that Fountain. Turned out it only led me to the _real_ map," at this Jack grimaced, "which happen to not be where it was suppose to be."

"How did you know?" I asked. Okay, so maybe that was a stupid question, but I was a little confused.

"There was a pedestal there, with three holes. Two of them looked like they were suppose to hold keys, which were gone as well. Between them was a hole, about the size of a large pocket-watch. I can only assume that this was what held the map. Anyways, I decided that I would worry about tracking those items down when I had my ship back, so now I'm chasing Barbossa to rescue my _Pearl_."

It took a moment before I could remember how to breath. Two keys. A pocket-watch. Things were falling into place…almost. I had a pocket-watch and a key. Two things that four years ago, nine men were willing to threaten me for. I knew that they had been important, for whatever reason. I wasn't sure how those men knew why they were important, but at the moment, that didn't matter. I would have bet my right arm that Ella had the other key, which meant two things: one, this Barbossa figure was looking for the Fountain, and two, he probably knew about the pocket-watch (now map, though I couldn't see how) and the key. Which meant I was in danger of being kidnapped like Ella had.

On the bright side of things, if I were to be kidnapped, chances were that I would be with Ella again.

"Winnie, are you okay?"

I raised my head to look at Elizabeth. "Yes, of course. Why?"

"No reason. Jack," she began again, "that still doesn't explain why you're here in Port Royal."

Sparrow smiled roguishly. "Am I not allowed to visit old friends for old time's sake?" Elizabeth simply raised an eyebrow. I just studied the tablecloth. This conversation was no longer very interesting, and I was getting bored. "Listen, luv, I needed a safe place to get myself together. Traveling can wear you down quite a bit, and navy has been tailing me constantly now. You of all people should be able to understand that, hm?"

"How long are you going to stay?"

"Maybe a week or two," considered Sparrow. "I didn't really think about it."

Elizabeth sighed wearily. "Very well, I can't throw you out without feeling some type of guilt. But you need to stay out of sight, and not leave the mansion. I have too much gossip flying around me without your help."

"I can only assume you mean dear William. How is he?"

Elizabeth stared at Sparrow, the sadness shining from her eyes. She swallowed and smoothed out her dress before turning to me. "I think I'm going to take a walk in the garden, see how the girls are. I'll be seeing you later." She got up and walked out of the room.

I whipped my head around, ready to bite of his head. "Did I say something wrong?" asked Sparrow innocently.

"Do you not know when to keep your pie-trap shut?" I snarled. I swallowed, composing myself again, and started in a calmer voice, "It's been less than a year since she's last seen him, and you had the gal to bring him up like we were talking about the weather! How could you possibly--"

He held up a hand to silence me, and I stopped, confused. He opened his mouth, paused, then asked, "What's a pie-trap?"

I bit hard on my lip to keep from screaming at him. Instead, I rose and walked out of the room. That man was despicable.

* * *

Around mid afternoon I was able to get Elizabeth alone. I had been dying to talk to her, but it had to be in private, and either the girls or Sparrow were nearby. 

"What is it, Winnie?" We were in the hallway outside the parlor. I peeked inside, and seeing no one, dragged her in behind me. The curtains were drawn, and the only light that shone was a candle in the far corner. I shut the door softly and ushered her over to the couch.

"I need to talk to you about something Sparrow said."

"Was it about Ella? Do you think she has one of the keys?" guessed Elizabeth.

"Partly. But…I never really told you _how_ I came here." Elizabeth shook her head after thinking a moment, puzzlement written all over her face. "Before my…arrival, I came into possession of a pocket-watch and a key. The lady I received it from told me that a man had given it to her, and that he was trying to keep it from someone. He never said who. Anyways, it was through this pocket-watch that I came here. I've never been able to make it work otherwise, but I always wondered why it was so important."

"And you think it's this map Jack was talking about?"

"Almost positive. It would make sense why so many people are after it."

"Does anyone but you know that you have it?"

"Ella of course, but…" I paused remembering Richard's words. "And Lieutenant Tremaine. And the Commodore." We looked at each other, my head spinning. "The Commodore gave Ella that key. Do you suppose he--"

"--knows what it is?" finished Elizabeth. "I'm not sure. He obviously knew it was important."

"Another thing. Why is the Commodore of Port Royal going after Ella, who is in Savanna? Why isn't another fort sending aid instead?"

I stared at my fidgeting hands. They had become soft and pale after living in England where ladies were expected to remain inside. I couldn't remember doing any real form of work for a long time now.

"He knows," whispered Elizabeth. "He has to. That's the only plausible explanation. But he doesn't strike me as a treasure hunter…"

"Maybe he's in league with the man that came to where I was. The lady said he was dressed strangely."

"Then the question stands, who are they trying to keep it from?"

Elizabeth may have been wondering that, but another completely different idea was swimming in my head. If that man had come to my time from here, that meant it was possible to back and forth. This pocket-watch wasn't only a map, it was a time-traveling device too. Now the real question was, how to activate it. After four years, I couldn't quite remember what our conversation had been about before the men had attacked us…I remembered college posters, but that was it.

"What are we going to do about it?" asked Elizabeth softly.

"Nothing," I whispered back. "Only Ella, the Commodore, and Richard know about me having the map and key. Ella won't talk to Barbossa, that I'm sure of. She might not even make a connection, I'm not sure. Richard won't tell anyone, and neither will the Commodore. They both have enough sense to keep their mouth shut about something like this. For now, I'm safe, and hopefully, it will stay that way."

"It won't," said Elizabeth, a smile playing at her mouth. I frowned, not entirely believing her. "Two reasons. Barbossa. And Jack Sparrow. They are both looking for this Fountain, and neither of them give up that easily. You'll be tracked down sooner or later. Anyway, Jack always brings trouble to wherever he is. It's just part of his character."

"That I believe," I mumbled. "Let's go to supper before the girls start worrying."

Elizabeth went out the door, and I followed, but before I shut the door, I thought I heard a noise, breathing maybe. Squinting into the shadows, I tried to see if someone was there. Instead, a dog, Robert's pet, came over to me from behind the couch. "Oh, it's just you," I chuckled. "Not like you're going to tell on us, right?"


	9. Trust Me

AN: Sorry for the slight delay, this was a very frustrating chapter to write...and I still don't like it much...however, I have very minimal tolerence for editing, and if I had to look at this chapter one more time, I think my head would have exploded. Hopefully you all will enjoy it better than I did writing it.

* * *

It was nighttime now, and I had been laying in my bed, more in a dozing state than sleeping, like when you know your awake, but at the same time, are dreaming. At the moment, I was dreaming about the storm again; it hadn't happened in years, yet my conversation with Elizabeth seemed to have re-freshen my memory. However, there was something different. Ella and I weren't in the ocean yet, we were running from those nine men.

"_Where are we going?" asked Ella._

_"I don't know," I said. "But we need to get to a telephone."_

_Ella glanced behind us. "They're following. I think we need to just run."_

_"You're right," I agreed, but I froze to the spot, seeing the men. "We're trapped."_

_Simultaneously, all nine men drew pistols and pointed them at us. I gripped harder to Ella's arm. I glanced down at her, her face masking my fear. Her eyes traveled down toward my shirt._

_"Finn, something is…"_

BOOM!

I awoke with a start at the sudden noise, annoyed that the sound had interrupted my dream. At the same time I sat up, my door was flung open, only to reveal Jack Sparrow. "What do you think--" I began.

BOOM!

I screamed, realizing what the noise was. Cannon fire. Looking out the window, I saw houses on fire and torches running around frantically. I stifled another scream at the sight.

"Winnie, come here!" commanded Jack. "You need to leave with me. Now."

I ran over to him, and he took my arm and began leading me thru the hallways of the house. "Where is Elizabeth and girls?" I asked frantically between breaths.

"With the butler and already gone. She sent me to get you when she realized you weren't awake. Said you slept like the dead, but I didn't think you could sleep thru cannon fire. Must you be so slow?"

"Sorry." I clutched his arm as we neared the entrance hall. "Jack, I'm scared."

"Don't worry, luv. Ol' Jack isn't going to let anything happen to you. Trust me." He turned, smiling, and winked at me. "I don't let valuable items slip through my hands."

I blushed hard, but something in the way he said it made me think that there was really a double meaning behind it…I didn't have much time to think it over though. We reached the front door only to find someone trying to force it open. Jack swung me back around and dragged me to the parlor. He pulled me to the window and peeked out, looking for something. I glanced at the corner nearby only to see two empty rum bottles. Now how did those get there?

Jack swore loudly, grabbing my attention. "What's wrong?"

"The house is practically surrounded. We aren't going to get out of here without a struggle." He took me by the shoulders and lowered his face to mine. "Where are the servants' quarters?"

"Why?"

"Now is no time for 'whys.' Just tell me, luv."

I closed my eyes tight, trying hard to remember. "The door is under the stairs, hidden by that large hanging Persian rug."

Jack took my hand and pulled me along behind him till we came to the grand stair case. The main door was almost open, and I could see hands groping for a handle, the sight of which threatened to allow another scream. But before it could escape my lips, he shoved me roughly behind the rug and into the hallway that led to the servants' quarters. "Jack, there's another door by the kitchen that's out in the open. What happens if the pirates find that?" He kept walking until we reached one of the maid's room. "Jack, did you hear me?"

"As odd as it may seem, I'm actually thinking. No need to be impatient." He turned to me and looked me over. "You're too tall to hide under the beds, and there isn't going to be enough room for both of us in the closet…" his eyes wandered above my head to the ceiling. I looked up as well: it was a trap door.

"Is that an attic?" I wondered aloud.

"Let's hope so," murmured Jack. He reached above my head and opened the door, and it wasn't until then that I realized that he was in fact a very tall man, maybe six foot. Okay, so very tall for this time period.

The door fell open and he grabbed the edge and heaved himself up, leaving me panicked and on the ground. "Jack, I'm not that strong! I can't lift myself up!"

He lowered his arms. "Grab on then." I took his arms and felt my feet leave the ground. I struggled into the attic just as voices were heard coming from the hallway. Jack latched the door and we laid there, breathing hard.

At the moment, my torso was across his chest. I felt around me, only to hit wall. "Jack, you mind sitting up? There's not a lot of room in here."

He turned his head to me, and with a glimmer in his eyes, said, "No."

I opened my mouth to argue, but he clamped his hand firmly over it and pressed himself against me. That's when I heard the voices, which were now right below us.

"This is the maid's room. No one is here," growled a low voice.

"Must be the wrong house then. What did the captain say we was looking for?" answered a higher, scratchy voice.

"Tall girl, dark brown hair, blue eyes, lives on the big house on top of the hill."

There was silence for a moment before the higher voice asked, "You don't suppose he meant the gov's daughter? Their house is on top of the hill too. Heard she was rather tall for a women…"

"Captain would have said so if that was the case," corrected the low voice.

"Well, there sure ain't any girls around here…"

"This is the Swann residence," interrupted another voice. "Only some whore lives here, an Elizabeth Swann. I got someone to talk for me. She ain't the one we want. This is the wrong house."

I tensed in anger at how the man referred to Elizabeth, but kept still and silent.

The other two men were quiet as well. "Well, what are we waiting for?" one of them finally said. "Let's catch us the gov's little baby." They left cackling and cracking horrid jokes on the way out. The two of us sat there for a while longer, just breathing. I removed his hand and shifted slightly…only to feel myself falling. I landed before I could scream, but a shooting pain went up my butt as I hit the floor.

I looked up to see the trap door swing, and Jack eight feet above me, laughing uproariously. "What the heck happened?" I asked faintly. My butt was now throbbing tremendously, and a dull pain was creeping all over my lower body. I groaned loudly. My pain tolerance was not very high.

"It seems to be that the latch did not quite latch all the way," responded Jack as he jumped down lightly, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. "I suppose it's a good thing I refused to adjust myself earlier, hm?"

I rolled my eyes and held my hand out. "Now, be a gentleman, and please help me up."

"I am no gentleman."

"Yes you are. You are a gentleman of fortune."

He held up his hand as if to say something, but instead dropped it down. "Touché."

"Please?" I asked again.

Chuckling, he reached down and helped me up. A stinging pan shot through my butt again, and I gasped, as I stood. "I think I broke my tailbone again."

"Again?"

I blushed. "I tend to fall."

Jack grinned again. "You, darling, are quite the governess."

I rolled my eyes, not bothering to waste the energy to correct my name. "Do you suppose the house it safe to enter?"

"Let's stay here for a while longer. They're still looting, I guarantee it."

"But that man said they were going to the governor's house. They left."

Jack smiled roguishly and leaned against the wall. "You forget who your talking to."

"Whatever." I walked stiffly to a window pane and leaned against it, opposite of the Captain. Looking out, I saw the governor's mansion alight and flames peeking out the windows. "Poor Clarissa, she's probably scared out of her wits…oh my gosh. Clarissa." I slapped a hand over my mouth. The pirates were looking to kidnap her. "We have to warn her!"

"Who?"

"Clarissa is the governor's daughter. The pirates are going to kidnap her! We need to tell someone!"

"No we don't."

My eyes widened in shock. "Are you mad? Of course we do! She's not going to last five minutes with them."

"Clarissa doesn't have what they want, so she'll be okay. When they figure out what happened, they will most likely hold her for ransom."

"How can she not have what they want?"

"As I recall," began Jack, now swaying over, "the description I heard was a tall, dark brown haired, blue-eyed girl who lives in the big house on top of the hill, not specifically the governor's daughter."

I would have collapsed again if Jack hadn't had the decency to catch me. Those pirates had been looking for me. The map and the key…they knew. "It's Barbossa," I gasped. "He must have found out."

"Interesting you should assume that this attack was Barbossa. What could you have that would be of any value to him, or any pirate for that matter?"

"That's none of your business," I snapped. Discreetly, I felt my chemise, under the nightgown, making sure the map and key were still safely there. They were.

"I think it is very much my business, seeing as I just aided in your hiding and protection."

I huffed indignantly at the remark. "Thank you, but I am quite capable of taking care of myself, and anything I might own for that matter."

Jack smirked. "Luv, you are nothing short of being utterly naïve, though I don't doubt you could put up a good fight." He tapped my nose playfully. "But you are going to want great deal more help from me if you want to get out of this unscathed.

I opened my mouth to retort, but held my tongue out of decency. Instead, I narrowed my eyes defensively.

Jack ignored the action and kept smiling. "By the way, that was not Barbossa attacking."

"And how would you know?"

"He has my ship. I'd know the sound of my own cannons, and that wasn't them. It appears you have at least two pirate captains after you." Jack stared at me, making me squirm and drop my gaze. "Though, once they discover they have the wrong girl, they are going to come back. It would be a wise idea to leave Port Royal."

"Where would I go? Who would I go with?" I challenged.

"Come with me. I don't know what you are in possesion of, but I do need help in rescuing my ship."

I looked at him skeptically. "You want me to come with you, to help rescue a ship? I've never sailed in my life. Are you mad?"

"Many have said as much. Though, as I recall, you mentioned an Ella this morning, kidnapped by Barbossa. Obviously someone of great importance to you. Now, if you were to come with me, I could help rescue her. You get your friend back, I get my ship back, everyone's happy. Savvy?"

Running off with Jack Sparrow did not seem like a particularly smart idea. I had only known him for a day, and frankly, he annoyed me. Not to mention he was a criminal, and if I were to be caught with him, I would most likely be hung. But Elizabeth had said he was a good man…and if I could help Ella…I would do anything for her. "You promise?" I asked softly.

"I swear on pain of death that I will rescue this bonny lass friend of yours." He held out his hand to shake.

I took it shyly and shook. "I'm trusting you," I added quickly, though I knew the statement was a lie. I did not trust him in the least, which made me wonder why I was doing this.

He smiled and winked. "Of course you do. After all, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

I pursed my lips together in annoyance. This man's ego was larger than the state of Texas. "I need to tell Elizabeth."

"No you don't," commanded Jack, gripping my upper arm. "We wouldn't want to drag her into this. She's been through quite enough already, losing dear William and such."

I cocked my head to the side, uncertainty crawling into my head. "I need to at least let her know I'm leaving. She'd worry about me."

"She'd only insist on coming along," said Jack seriously. "Trust me, I know her. If we want to get out of here as quick as possible without anyone seeing us, we need to leave tonight, preferably right now." He opened the window I was leaning against and leapt through, offering his hand to help me.

I was about to take it, but pulled back, thinking again about the situation. _Jack always brings trouble to wherever he is. It's part of his character._ Was this a wise choice? Even to rescue Ella? The Commodore was going to follow Barbossa...

"You trust me, right, luv?" Jack's hand was still there.

"I...don't know," I answered slowly. Hesitantly, I took it and he pulled me through. I winced at my broken tailbone, but allowed Jack to lead me away from the house. I had a feeling Jack wasn't telling me something, but brushed the thought aside. Elizabeth said he was a good man, and truth be told, he had yet to give me a plausible reason to think otherwise.

Suddenly, he turned around and grabbed my chin. "Do you promise?"

"Promise what?"

"To do anything to help me get my _Pearl_ back?"

"Of course," I answered reassuringly. "Why wouldn't I?"

He smiled cockily. "I just needed to make sure."

Turning, he left me there wondering what exactly I had gotten myself into.


	10. Can't Go Back

_AN: First off, thank you to Xewioso for more encouragement. I never thought writing a story could be so frustrating, but low and behold, it is._

_Second, the updates might be a little sketchy from here on out. My school teachers have so kindly given me summer reading that I have unfortunately forgotten about until last minute, so most of my time will be spent trying to catch up. Sorry, but enjoy this chapter, I had a lot of fun writing it._

* * *

The two of us ended up spending the rest of the night in the forest. I couldn't understand why Jack had been so insistent on leaving when we did. Couldn't we at least spend the night in a decent bed and leave later? 

I didn't bother arguing with him though, mostly because I was too afraid of what he might do. Good man or not, I certainly didn't want to get on the bad side of a pirate. In fact, I just tried to ignore him most of the time; he may have been charming and a heartbreaker for other women, but to me, he was just a plain annoyance.

* * *

That night, I stayed up, watching the stars thoughtfully. Back home, there had always been too much light at night to really see them, even if it was a small town. But here, everything was dark and peaceful. The sky was beautiful, twinkling like diamonds and gems. 

Sparrow was asleep, resting comfortably on his jacket, which he had waded up into a pillow. A leaf had found it's way next to his mouth that he was blowing unconciously. From here he looked so vulnerable, so innocent. Did everyone look like that when sleeping?

I snorted at my thoughts. Sparrow was _not_ innocent.

Though he was different. He seemed enough like a scallywag to be a real danger to anyone who crossed his path, but at the same time, he certainly wasn't evil. It was an odd mix, one that I still wasn't entirely sure of. But I had gotten myself here, stuck with this fellow, so everything was really my own doing. I would have to grin and bear it, as my father would say.

My father. Other than Ella, whom I had thought to be dead, he was the other person whom I had cried hardest for when I came here. Of course I loved my family, but he was the one I was closet to. Throughout life, he would teach me things, valuable lessons, about how to act, how to treat other people, how to be the best I could be.

I wondered if he would be proud of me now. It was he who had taught me to control my temper when it would flare up. I was not an angry person by nature, but there had been times when younger that I could throw quite a tantrum. Instead, he told me to hide it, and always be polite. I really don't think he needed to teach me; I was secretive by nature, which included emotions.

But his advice had aided me in one thing: Jack Sparrow. There was something about him that made me uneasy, and when I am uneasy, I become annoyed, in which I then become easily angered. I couldn't figure out exactly what it was about him, which frustrated me even more. But as long as I kept my emotions in check, remained aloof and polite, this trip shouldn't be too much of a hassle. I would rescue Ella, come back to Port Royal, and start my new life.

Sighing, I laid down on the ground gingerly. My tail bone was searing with pain, but I ignored it. I had bigger things to worry about, such as how long it was going to take to find Ella, and how long I would be able to stand the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow.

* * *

The one night in the forest turned into two days, and I was about to go hysterical. I could see Port Royal, its streets, its stores, its home with clean beds and decent clothes (I was still in my nightdress and chemise), and the worst part being, Jack never gave me a reason as to _why_ we were still here. It was the dusk of the third day that I finally cracked. 

Jack was coming back from the town. He had said something about checking the docks, or fort, or some place. I wasn't really paying attention.

"I'm going back tonight," I announced calmly.

Jack stood in front of me, staring blankly. "What was that, luv?"

"Miss Delaney," I corrected automatically. "I said I'm going back. I'm sick and tired of just sitting here, doing nothing, while my friend is in more and more danger."

Jack smirked. "You plan on leaving by yourself? Right now?"

I could feel blood rushing to my face again. "Well, I intend to do something. I suppose I am going to leave right now."

The smirk was still there. Folding my arms, I looked him straight in the eye to prove I was dead serious about my statement. I lasted all of twenty seconds before I dropped my gaze shyly. His stare was too strong and overbearing to hold.

"There are three…how shall I say it…defects in you plan, luv. Excuse me, _Miss Delaney_," he dragged the last part out dramatically, then put his hand in the air, holding up three fingers. "First, we are on an island, meaning you need a boat to get off, meaning you need to have your own boat and skills to maneuver said boat, neither of which are yours. Secondly, you are alone, and a lass for that matter. For you to attempt to fight a ship full of pirates is reckless and stupid. If you don't lose your life, you will be losing something much more desirable," he let his eyes look over my body, and I glowered hotly at him. Seeing my expression, his smirk grew wider as he continued. "Thirdly, you need to know where you're going. I daresay you have never used a map, or a compass, in your lifetime. You would be lost the minute you lose sight of this shore."

I let out some breath in frustration and raised my head. "You misjudge me, Mr. Sparrow," I started shakily. His eyes were still boring into me mockingly, making me nervous. It didn't help I was never good at arguing anyways, but I still continued. "You may be right that I cannot sail, nor do I have a boat, but I am quite capable of hiring a captain to take me to my destination. And if you think I am fool enough to even think about rescuing Ella by myself, you are gravely mistaken. If I could, I would have the full force of the English navy behind me to save her. However, that is obviously not an option, so I would probably resort to recruiting some soldiers. And for your information, I have read a map and used a compass on backpacking trips, and I imagine it wouldn't be too different out in the ocean."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "What are backpacking trips?"

"Never mind," I mumbled, hitting myself on the forehead. "I'm leaving now."

I began walking toward Port Royal, but a hand grabbed my shoulder and spun me around roughly. "I don't think you can do that, darling."

"And why not?" I challenged weakly.

"You, my dear, made a promise to help me. Running off like this would be breaking that oh-so-important promise. You wouldn't want to go back on your word, now would you?" he said.

I swallowed. I couldn't go back on my word. It was something my father had always taught to me, and I couldn't break the habit now.

And Jack Sparrow knew that.

"No," I answered softly before coming back to where I was. I could hit myself for being so easy to control, so meek. Inside, I was boiling and ready to explode, but once again, I was keeping my emotions in check and doing exactly as was expected of me. It was safer that way anyhow.

"Good girl. I knew I could count on you."

"I'm not a girl, I'm practically twenty two years old," I defended, "so I expect to be treated like an adult, thank you very much."

I saw a glint go into his eye, and quickly regretted what I had said. "I'll make sure to remember that in the future," he murmured softly.

Scowling, I rolled my eyes and turned away, still beet red. I hated being able to blush so easily. "So, _Captain_, when exactly do you plan on putting Port Royal behind us?"

Jack stood there, imitating someone deep in thought. "This evening seems to be the opportune time. I dare say I might even have a ship."

I blinked, a little surprised. "You mean, like, right now?"

"Unless I am greatly mistaken, it is, in fact, evening time."

"What exactly do you mean by ship?" Jack raised both eyebrows questioningly. "Okay, I didn't mean it quite like that," I corrected. "What I meant to ask was where exactly is this ship?"

"Follow me."

I couldn't help rolling my eyes again in frustration, trying to figure out how I was going to travel with this man. He could be pleasant one minute, then he would say something in a completely egotistical tone, and my patience with him dropped. Too bad I was impatient by nature.

We arrived just outside a small cove, about a mile away from the town. Hidden in the shade was a small sloop. It looked new, and from the way it was sitting in the water, it was well stocked. "Is this the ship you came in?"

Jack looked back at me. "Do you think I would actually be sailing in a sloop? I am not a dingy, clumsy, crude pirate. I am Captain Jack Sparrow. I sail in _real_ ships."

"Looks like a real ship to me," I mumbled under my breath. Then the importance of the statement hit me like a brick wall. "Wait, you stole this?"

"Borrowed without permission is the terminology I prefer."

"I'm not going to sail in a stolen boat!" I cried. "The navy would hunt us down and arrest us!"

"As I recall, you said something about having the full force of the English navy behind you if possible. At least this way, it can become a partial reality."

"Good grief, I was just trying to make a point. I didn't actually mean that!"

Sparrow began to laugh quietly. "No need to get riled up, darling. There was a reason we were staying back for a few days, and that was to send the navy on a wild goose chase while we sat back comfortably. This way, we're clear to go."

"It's Miss Delaney," I corrected again. I hated him calling me pet names.

"Surely there is something shorter I can call you," said Jack. We had arrived at the sloop, and now were boarding. "Miss Delaney is such a mouthful, as is Winifred."

"That would make it seem like we were becoming familiar," I countered icily.

"Luv, we are about to be each other's sole traveling companion for the next month at least. It's about time we became familiar." He turned to me and gave another one of his dazzling smiles.

I looked away, blushing as usual. He may have been a dirty rouge of a pirate, but his smile could about melt someone's heart. "I suppose you could call me Winnie, seeing as I don't like Winifred either."

Jack stuck out his tongue. "That makes you sound like a spoiled rich brat, which, seeing you are a governess, are probably not. How about Wynn?"

I shook my head. "To many people have called me windmill from that nickname. I suppose…you could call me Finn." Finn. That was the name Ella had given to me, because she didn't like Winnie either. She was the only one who ever called me that.

"Finn," he tried. "I like it. It suits you in a way." He smiled again. "Let's go, before the tide leaves."

* * *

I hated sailing on the boat when crossing from England, but now, I absolutely loathed it with a fiery passion. Not only was I paranoid about being trapped on a floating hunk of wood (which Jack teased me to no end about), but I was forced to work on the ship. 

Jack quickly saw the downside of traveling with a women. I was not as strong as a man, and combine that with my attitude and the fact that I had barely done any physical labor for the past four years, I made a pretty crappy sailor. Of course I didn't just sit around and complain; I did like working outside, and I couldn't stand sitting around doing nothing. I just didn't want to be doing work on a _ship_.

There were two things I was good at: steering and navigation. This was a surprise to me. Back home, when learning to drive, I was about as dangerous as they come. I could never seem to keep control of the vehicle, and have some very interesting stories to prove it. But seeing as I was useless in the rigging, or whatever it is you're suppose to do with the ropes, Jack begrudgingly allowed me to steer as he handled everything that needed to be done. I suppose he didn't have too much of a choice; it was either sink or let me steer.

The navigation came pretty easily. As said, I had read maps during family backpacking trips, and quickly picked up how to do it with the maps provided now, something that honestly shocked Jack. He quickly saw the advantage of it though, and soon had me mapping our course to a small town named Tortuga. I was not particularly thrilled about visiting this place (Elizabeth had mention it in her stories, and it sounded terrible), but as Jack had reminded me constantly, he was the Captain, and he made the calls. I wasn't liking it one bit, however, I had the sense to keep my mouth shut and take it in stride. I would have much preferred being in charge, but Jack _expected_ to be in charge, a philosophy I did not want to fight.

This of course did not stop me from worrying about Ella, or the type of characters that were going to eventually come to her rescue. Finally, after two weeks of traveling, I brought up the courage to talk to him about my problems.

"Jack," I said, entering his cabin. He was, at the moment, entirely engrossed in reading the maps. After a second, he grunted in acknowledgement and looked up. "I was wondering…I need to talk to you."

"Of course." He sat down in the chair jauntily and began to fiddle with his compass, snapping it open and close. "What brings you to my humble cabin?"

"Well, I was thinking…is there a chance we could go to another port?" I suggested timidly.

"Unfortunately, luv, there are few ports where I am welcome with open arms. I am, after all, a wanted criminal, and Captain Jack Sparrow for that matter." He flashed a golden grin, which I ignored.

"Yes, but," I closed my eyes, trying to figure out how to word my statement. "Listen, I don't want Ella to be rescued by pirates. Who knows what could happen. She could get killed, or…hurt."

Jack clicked his tongue in mock disappointment. "That hurt, darling. After all, I am a pirate. Whatever happened to trusting me?" He stood up regally and sauntered over.

"I trust what Elizabeth said about you. I don't necessarily trust you," I replied softly, uncertainty entering my voice.

Jack stepped closer so as to make a small three inch gap between our faces. In a low voice, he asked, "What's not to trust?"

I blinked a few times, trying to gather my thoughts, which took more force than I thought possible, seeing as my stomach was now proceeding to do multiple back flips at our proximity. "Truth be told, I'd rather be sailing with the Commodore right now," I answered, my voice cracking slightly.

"So you'd sooner trust some navy officer than poor Jack," he shook his head slightly. "Not the wisest choice, I must say."

I frowned slightly as things began to click into place for the first time in two weeks. "The Commodore is chasing Barbossa right now. I never needed to come with you to begin with. You tricked me."

"I did nothing of the sort. I simply insisted that you come along."

I opened my mouth to argue, but closed it again as I realized what he had said was true. I had fallen for…something. I wasn't sure how, but this man had managed to convince me to follow him on some foolhardy adventure to rescue some stupid boat. "I was stressed and tired and not thinking clearly. You took advantage of me!" I finally growled.

He smirked, showing his golden teeth. For a moment, I almost forgot what we were discussing seeing as my heart was quickly melting at the sight of him and his charming smile. We looked at each other for a time before he added, "Well, it's not like you can go back now. We are in the middle of the ocean, on, as you so poetically put it, 'a hunk of floating wood.'"

"Still…" I added softly after a time, but I knew my case was lost.

"Still," Jack copied, "we are going to Tortuga to hire a crew of _pirates_, who will then proceed to rescue your darling Ella and redeem my ship." He lowered his face closer, so that I could now smell his breath, which was a mix of rum and spice. "Though it may be hard to believe, I always keep my promises," he whispered in a voice barely audible.

I breathed deeply trying to clear my head, but it didn't work. The smell of his breath and the sound of his voice was fogging my mind. Not to mention my insides were nothing more than a bunch of butterflies at this point. Seeing my discomfort, he let out a low chuckle and brought his hand up to graze my jaw.

This snapped me out of the spell, and I quickly backed away from him, grabbed the door handle, and let myself out hurriedly. Rushing down the stairs to below deck I shut the door to the small room I was using and locked it.

When I had flopped myself down on my hammock, I studied my hands. I was visibly shaking. What in the world had happened back there? What had he done to me? Why had I acted like that? I bit my lip, trying to control my squirming insides. Never before had _anyone_ ever made me feel like that. And that Jack, a _pirate_ could have that type of effect on me…I put my arms around me, trying to help myself to stop trembling. The fact that he could control me like _that_ flat out scared the living daylights out of me.

"He's nothing more than an annoying, egotistical, self-center, criminal," I muttered to myself. The reminder helped calm me slightly, and I was able to drift off into a dreamless slumber.


	11. Mistaken Identity

AN: I have nothing to say, except sorry that the updates aren't going to be as often. I can't believe it, school hasn't even started, and it's already taking over the rest of my summer...grrr...

Regardless, enjoy the reading!

* * *

Richard was pacing the deck at night again. It had been about another week since Dawson had shown up here and struck some bargain or another with Commodore Belmont, and at this point, they were floating about five miles off the coast of Savanna. He could only assume it was to meet Dawson.

Which was one of the reasons Richard was up at this time of night. If anything was going to occur, he wanted to be right there to see it all happen. He wanted to know for sure if he was being betrayed by Commodore Belmont.

Richard had been at this for about three nights now, and as before, he decided to go to bed as the Commodore blew out his own candle. As he began to descend the stairs to below deck, a sudden wave of déjà vu hit him, and he looked up to see the big white sails of the _Midas_ approaching. Richard scurried over to a pile of ropes and barrels and crouched down, hiding. Just as expected, a plank was lowered to show Dawson strutting across dragging along…none other than Clarissa Atherton.

Richard frowned. This was who the Commodore wanted? He closed his eyes, reviewing the criteria given to Dawson the night he had left: brown hair, tall, big house on the hill…yes, it applied to Clarissa, but why not just say the governor's daughter? That would have been easier to remember…

A short scream managed to escape Clarissa, one that Dawson quickly silenced with a rough hand. Richard couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor girl; she was not used to such terrible treatment, and it must have come to be quite a shock. She was nothing like Mrs. Elizabeth Turner, who seemed to welcome adventure like an old friend, nor like Ella, who let nothing stand in her way. Richard shook his head of her; he couldn't let himself think about Ella right now.

The scream did have one affect. The Commodore appeared out of his cabin in a rush, not quite dressed, but looking ecstatic…until he saw who Dawson held. "What are you doing here?" he asked dangerously. "Why do you have the governor's daughter?"

Dawson frowned. "This is who the men supplied me with, and she fits the description. How was I to know she was the governor's daughter?" Clarissa looked at him indignantly, clearly insulted at the comment.

Commodore glared at Dawson. "I hired you to kidnap a very certain lady, not some spoiled rich brat!" Clarissa opened her mouth to correct him once again, but Dawson slapped his hand over her mouth.

"The other house on top of the hill held only a rich whore. My men did some investigation, they aren't completely helpless."

"If you had investigated further, you would have discovered she has another permanent resident, a Miss Winifred Delaney," responded the Commodore sharply.

"Then I will go correct my mistake," growled Dawson.

"There is no need for that. I will accompany you to Port Royal," said Belmont. "I can't afford for you to mess up my plans a second time." The two men glared at each other viciously, but Dawson knew he had lost this round, and dropped his gaze.

"Now, what shall we do with her?" Dawson threw Clarissa unceremoniously to the ground. The two men stared at her as she shivered, whimpering about something.

"I suppose the only choice we have is to kill her," said the Commodore. Richard stopped breathing. Did he really just suggest that? An officer of the British Navy?

Dawson, surprisingly, shook his head. "You are too crude, Commodore. Back home, who's story is going to be more believable, the heroic Commodore, or the prissy governor's daughter?"

The Commodore raised his eyebrows. "And suppose someone believes her? Then what?"

"You're a smart man," continued Dawson. "There are ways to make people be quiet without killing them. Trust me. The only thing is…you need to find the right way. I'll leave you to that." Grinning, he tipped his hat and walked across the plank.

Clarissa was shaking visibly now. "Please, Commodore, I promise not to talk. Just take me home."

Commodore Belmont snorted. "You talk too much when you have nothing to say anyway. Why should I believe you?"

"Please!" begged Clarissa. "I'll do anything!"

"I don't intend to kill you…yet," answered Belmont evilly. "Who knows what use you may prove to be in the future? Get up, stop whining, and go into my cabin. For the next two weeks, I want absolute silence from you. You will not put one toe outside of that cabin, nor attempt to yell for help, or I promise, I _will_ kill you. Understood?"

Clarissa nodded and scurried to do as asked. Belmont swept his eyes over the deck, looking for spies or eavesdroppers no doubt, and then retired as well.

Richard crept out from behind the barrel after he was sure the Commodore was asleep. He had been mistaken at the type of man Belmont was. Once, a long time before, he had looked up to this man. Now, he was a criminal. He needed to be stopped.

However, Richard was no idiot. He could not try to rile up the sailors; they wouldn't believe a word he said unless he produced Clarissa, and no one every went into the Commodore's private cabin. No, this was a mission he must complete by himself. But how?

Richard looked out to sea before going below deck, and realized he shouldn't worry. Something would come along eventually. That was how life at sea always seemed to be.


	12. Another Adventure

AN: Sorry so much for the wait! My life has been nothing short of a rollercoster lately, and summer homework has not been making it easier. Thanks to everyone who keeps reading, it is greatly apprieciated. Enjoy the next chapter!

* * *

Elizabeth drummed her fingers on the breakfast table, not quite seeing the biscuits and gravy set before her. Three days. Three long, heartbreaking, days. It was like Will had left again, only this time, is was Winnie. It may have only been two months, but Elizabeth had felt completely at peace whenever she was with her. She had an aurora of love that just seemed to engulf everyone that she met. To say the least, Elizabeth missed her with her whole mind, heart, and soul.

"Lizzie," asked Arielle shyly, "have you heard anything about Winnie yet?"

Elizabeth shook her head wordlessly. When Winnie hadn't shone up after the attack, Elizabeth had gone as quickly as she could to the fort to report the incident. She had assumed that the pirates that had attacked had taken Winnie, until two very disturbing pieces of information came to her ears. One, Clarissa had been kidnapped also. This was hardly unforeseen, considering that she _was_ the governor's daughter after all. However, it did prove that these pirates were not the ones who had ran off with Winnie. Which left the other piece: Jack had gone missing mysteriously as well. Elizabeth was no idiot. Jack had no doubt ran off with Winnie, whether she went willingly or not was another matter, but not one that particularly mattered to her at the moment. All she wanted to know was whether Winnie was safe or not.

It was interesting that this attack was soon after the one at Savanna, of course. Elizabeth had wondered over and over whether they might have been at all related in any way, but had yet to come up with a certain answer. Other than the fact that it was pirates attacking the towns, neither incidents had anything similar between them. Well, and that both had had a kidnapping involved.

"Lizzie, can we play now?" begged Isabella impatiently.

"Of course," said Elizabeth softly. The two girls left the table, leaving Elizabeth sitting there miserably.

"You know, she is quite a capable lady, Mrs. Turner." It was Robert, the butler. he was standing stiffly in the door way, unsmiling as ever. He was talking about Winnie.

"I know. But still, the fact that she is gone…" she trailed off. Sighing, Elizabeth grasped her hands together and stood up. "I wish there was some way I could find her. I've lost too many people already."

"Of course, m'lady. I expected nothing less from you."

She looked up tearfully and walked into the parlor. Robert, sensing his need, followed silently. "I would go after her, you know. But then there are Isabella and Arielle. I can't very well leave them here with no one to watch after them. They are just as worried about Winnie as I am, and for me to go off so suddenly would be selfish. I've been selfish enough in the past year."

Robert cleared his throat awkwardly. "If you don't mind me saying so, I would not see the venture as selfish, though most definitely foolhardy. But if my memory serves me correctly, that has never stopped you before."

"Robert…?"

"Your household is a very capable group of people, miss. I'm sure Isabella and Arielle will perfectly happy here, especially if they knew that you went away to rescue Winifred. They are awfully fond of her, you know."

Elizabeth smiled and ran up to Robert to hug him. "Would you watch after them? I want so much to make sure Winnie is safe. I trust Jack, but he always seems to have some sort of ulterior motive behind everything he does. I don't want to have her sucked into another one of his schemes."

"Naturally, Mrs. Turner."

* * *

Elizabeth stepped out of her carriage with stout determination. The day before, she had hired a captain to take her toward Savanna, where the Commodore was. If anyone could help her, it would be him, that she was sure of.

"Good day, Miss Swann," greeted the captain smartly, but with slight distaste.

"It's Mrs. Turner now, Captain. Please remember," greeted Elizabeth icily. "How long till we cast off?"

"As the tide leaves. Please, let me help you with your belongings. We don't have much time."

"Thank you," said Elizabeth. As the captain followed behind her with her trunk, she strutted up onto the boat. It was a merchant galleon, and Elizabeth grimaced. "I don't suppose you have anything…faster? Less noticeable? I don't mean to be rude, but time is not on my side."

The captain glared. "I had a sloop, but it was stolen three days ago. The navy has a ship out looking for it, but obviously we aren't going to be able to use it."

Elizabeth nodded curtly, but mused at the information. So, a sloop had disappeared three days ago? Interesting that it should coincide with Jack's mysterious departure. At least now she knew the type of ship she should be keeping an eye out for.

Within the next hour they were off, sailing into the horizon. It was mid-afternoon, and the captain said it should take at least four days, probably more, to reach the Commodore. That was with the assumption that he had already left Savanna and was traveling toward Port Royal. Could Elizabeth honestly wait four days? What could happen to Winnie in that amount of time?

Now that she thought about it, nothing much. It had been blatantly obvious that her regard for Jack was that of a small child that needed some serious discipline. If he tried anything, Elizabeth had the utmost confidence that Winnie would dispel it without a second thought. The idea was comforting, but did not let disappear the instilled sense of urgency that was fastened into Elizabeth's mind. Something big was happening, another adventure, and to tell the truth, she really didn't want to miss out on it.

_And who knows, maybe I'll catch a glance of Will._


	13. Finding the Key

AN: I really enjoyed writing this chapter...so I hope like it as well. And thank you to Xewioso for the complements and encouragment! It helps...a lot.

* * *

"Weigh anchor! Ragetti, Pintel, you come with me and Miss Bronte," ordered Barbossa menacingly. The two men rushed over like scared dogs and quickly began lowering a longboat.

It had been four weeks since her kidnap. Ella supposed it could have gone worse, but it didn't mean she enjoyed it. It was true, Barbossa, considering she was a prisoner, had been about as hospitable as a pirate was capable of, which measured up to him putting a stop to his men from trying anything. And he had maintained the decency to lend her a small room for her own use. But beyond that, he had shown little or no interest for her well being. As long as the key was safe, and she couldn't get away, she meant absolutely nothing.

This knowledge had caused her to wreak havoc on anyone who had the gall to come within ten feet of her. Ella hated being treated as if she were some prize or decoration, which was no doubt what most of the men saw her as. To be ignored…that was an entirely different matter. Ella refused to be ignored.

When she wasn't yelling at the crew members or cursing Barbossa, or trying to plan some sort of escape, she thought of one thing: Richard.

She was slowly realizing why boys had thrown themselves at her feet so long ago. The fact was, she loved boys in general. She loved being with them, talking with them, definitely flirting with them. It was almost like an obsession, except she had the decency to stop it when she realized something had gone too far.

Then there was Richard. He, out of all the men at Savanna, had been the only one who had _not_ thrown himself. Instead, he had watched from afar, never saying anything, never intruding. This caught Ella's attention after about a year, and she never could forget it after that. Soon she was talking to him, wondering what made him different than the rest. She was quick to discover it; he was sensible. He wasn't foolish enough to think he could win against the rest, so he had waited.

It wasn't attraction that began their close friendship, that was something Ella made very clear. After losing Finn, she was certain to maintain a reasonable distance from anyone she could attach herself to. But that was why Ella wanted to be with Richard. He reminded her so much of her best friend, that it was almost like having her back. He alone could bring her back down to earth like Finn always could. He was smart enough, caring enough, loving enough…

Soon the friendship grew into something much more, though it wasn't readily admitted at first. And such were the state of things when Richard had left to Port Royal to sail once again with the Commodore. With him gone, it had left Ella alone with her feelings, a very dangerous position, she admitted. However, it was then that she discovered that she really loved Richard, and that she wished with her whole heart that she could see him again.

"Miss Bronte, after you," sneered Barbossa, motioning toward the boat. Ella, after making a rude face, complied slowly, making sure to take as much time as possible in getting down. Maybe not the smartest move, but if he couldn't treat her with some decency, than why not return the favor?

It was a small island they had arrived at, in which was a small river they were proceeding to go up. There was a mysterious air about it, not quite menacing, yet not entirely friendly. Ella propped her chin on her knees and hugged them toward her chest, glaring at first the floor, than Barbossa, than the floor again. She didn't want to be here in the slightest.

"What are we going to do here?" demanded Ella harshly. "I can only assume it has to do with this key?"

"Both keys, actually," answered Barbossa. "No need to get upset, Miss Bronte. Once we're done with you here, you can be back on your merry way to Savanna. We just need information at this point."

Ella could feel herself pale, and inwardly she shuddered. Something in the way he had said that was unnerving. He obviously wouldn't need her to be safe after this little detour…what would happen to her on the ship back? Ella forced her to block the ideas from her mind; now was not the time to think about such things.

"Who exactly is this Miss Odessa?" asked Ella again. "How in the world can she help us get back my friend's key?"

"All in due time," whispered Barbossa mysteriously. Ella let out a frustrated huff before turning her eyes away, only to see a small shack in the distance. It looked as if it had decayed, yet the skeleton still remained in tact. Along the walls rugs had been hung, only, Ella assumed, to keep out the draft.

"Is that where she lives?"

Barbossa simply grinned manically at her as they approached it. Gulping, Ella allowed herself to be led from the long boat onto the plank way that served for a front porch.

"Pintel, Ragetti, you stay here and guard the boat. Understood?" commanded Barbossa gruffly. "This business is between Miss Bronte, Odessa, and I. No peeking, or I can assure you, the punishment will be…unpleasant." He allowed a soft cackle escape his mouth before turning to Ella. "Shall we?"

Ella glared angrily at him and walked toward the front door confidently, only to stop the second she entered.

It was a small room, but cluttered with who knows what. There were snakes, birds, lizards, books, knick-knacks, looses beads and charms, and a ton of crabs crawling everywhere. Wincing, Ella gingerly stepped toward a round table that, at the moment, was empty. She sat herself down, making sure that there weren't any stray animals occupying it before hand.

"Welcome, Barbossa," drawled a low warm voice. From behind a large cream curtain appeared a small black lady. Her hair was braided and beaded, cascading down in brown ropes that would jangle as she walked toward them. She seemed older, yet her eyes were young and lively, while still holding a small amount of mystery in them. Dressed in a simple brown dress, she approached Barbossa slowly, smiling all the while.

"Hello, Odessa."

"It 'as been too long," she said. "I am glad dat you 'ave finally decided to visit my lowly 'ouse. Though, I sense, once again, you seek something? I 'ope it is not cursed, hm?" Her eyes glittered mockingly, while Barbossa cringed slightly.

"That was more Jack's doing than mine. As I recall, it was your sister that finally showed us the way after you refused. How is Tia, or should I say, Calypso? Where is she?" He smiled, but there was a shade of uneasiness at the mention of 'Calypso'.

"She is right 'ere." Odessa picked up one of the crabs and began to stroke it gingerly. Barbossa twitched at the sight, and proceeded to avoid any crab that might come near him. This was quite the feat, seeing as they seemed to cover the floor. "Calypso was not very 'appy after you released 'er from de human prison you left her in. She 'ated it."

"We did release her…" offered Barbossa weakly.

"No matter," interrupted Odessa. "She is not concerned in human affairs, as long as dis new William Turner continues to ferry the souls."

"Actually, Odessa, that is why we are here." The lady in front of them frowned slightly at the mentioning of this, but signaled for Barbossa to continue. "There is something of value that I am in need of. It's not cursed, but it is at the bottom of the ocean." He swallowed, as if to debate whether to continue. Glancing sideways at a few of the crabs, he said softly, "I was…hoping that we could somehow summon Mister…Captain Turner for him to fetch it back."

Odessa sat rigidly for quite sometime, making Ella wonder if she was suffering some type of stroke. "Dis Captain Turner's duty is not dat of a servant, Barbossa. Calypso is not particularly 'appy with dis request."

If this Calypso was the crabs that were walking around, Ella quickly came to the conclusion that this lady was on the verge of a maniac. However, she had the sense to keep quiet as their argument continued.

"Of course, she is not happy," agreed Barbossa hurriedly, "but it was me who suggested that we release her. Surely she can find it in her heart to help--Ouch!" He jumped in his seat, clutching his hand, which showed a crab hanging off the pinky finger. During is plea, he had forgotten about those crabs on the table, and one had sneaked over to pinch him.

Odessa was once again rigid. Ella sat still, wondering what was going to happen now. Everything she had heard was nothing but confusing, but this William Turner fellow seemed interesting. What had Odessa said he was suppose to do? Ferry souls? Ella was quickly reminded of Greek mythology and the river Styx with the boatman who would give passage to those souls that had died. Did he do the same thing? If so…had he seen Finn?

"Who is dis girl?"

Ella jumped at the mention of her. "I'm Ella."

"I know your name, Eleanor."

"She knows where the key is," offered Barbossa painfully, who was still trying to shake off the stubborn crab.

Odessa was silent, staring at Ella, who began to squirm under her unfaltering gaze. "Dere is something more important dan dis key." The comment was directed toward Ella, but it certainly wasn't a question. "I will summon Turner, but only for dis girl," announced Odessa quietly. "If you get the key, so be it. But dis Ella is looking for something else, so Calypso will permit it. You are lucky you 'ave her, Barbossa."

He turned to grin at Ella, who glared back. At least she didn't have to worry about being useless anymore, nor could he be rid of her. It was a lose-lose situation on her part…unless they found the thing that she wanted…whatever that was.

"Follow me," ordered Odessa. They did her bidding, and the three of them walked to the boat where Pintel and Ragetti were now sleeping. Barbossa kicked them awake, and after much apologizing, they helped Ella and Odessa into the boat, and cast off. "We must go to da sea."

We arrived at the mouth of the river much more quickly than going upstream. It was late afternoon, and the sun was dipping low in the horizon, casting a warm yellow glow over the water. "Stop," commanded Odessa. "This is far enough." From her skirt she produced five crabs that had been attached at the hem. Simultaneously, all three men cowered at the sight of them before Odessa dropped them into the water.

Then they waited. The sun set lower and lower until the rim was grazing the edge of the sky. Stars were starting to shine in the east, Venus sparkling brighter than the rest. During this whole time, everyone was silent, which was extremely had for Ella to manage. Finally, as the sun disappeared, Ella asked softly, "Is Captain Turner going to--"

A great whooshing sound interrupted her mid-sentence. Far off toward the right, the ocean was bubbling and churning until a large ship broke the surface, splashing onto the top of the water with a thundering noise.

Ella's eyes widened at the sight, and she almost fainted. Her own experience with time-traveling had been frightening enough, but watching a ship rise from under the water just about topped it off.

"Go to your ship," commanded Odessa as she stepped out of the boat, only to be supported by an army of crabs, making the three men wince again. "Captain Turner knows da request, but 'e does not know where. Good luck, Ella." With that, Miss Odessa disappeared into the shadows, smiling softly.

"What did she say?" asked Ragetti excitedly.

"Nothing that concerns you," growled Barbossa. "Get us to the _Pearl_."

A muffled 'Yes, Cap'n' was heard, and the two of them rowed toward the large black ship. About they same time they arrived, the other ship cam up beside her, making the remaining men scramble in panic. They seemed to have recognized the ship, which was called the _Flying Dutchman_, and were not particularly excited at its appearance.

"At ease, men!" roared Barbossa as he stepped on deck. "We're not under attack!"

The men quickly reformed, a general apology drifting thru the air. Barbossa strutted to the side, Ella following close behind at a much faster pace. He made a motion with his hand, and suddenly, a young man appeared before them out of thin air. Ella gasped in fright, but otherwise stood her ground.

He did not look frightening, in fact, he appeared friendly, except for the scowl that was directed toward Barbossa. His hair was shoulder length and a little curly. A black bandana was wrapped around his head, and he carried a finely made sword at his side. "Barbossa," he greeted coldly.

"Turner. So kind of you to join us."

"I see you have the _Pearl_ again. Whatever happened to Jack?"

Ella couldn't help wondering who exactly this man was, for it was the second time he came up in conversation this day. She was about to ask, but Barbossa answered.

"He needs to learn to keep a better eye on his possessions. But I don't think you are here to chastise me for my misdeeds."

"No," Turner grumbled. He turned his warm brown eyes to Ella and smiled widely. "You must be Eleanor."

"Please call me Ella," she whispered shyly. The man was handsome, and she could feel herself blushing as he took her hand and kissed it…just like Richard always had. His image flashed thru her mind, and all shyness was gone, allowing her to smile easier.

"You…lost something? Calypso wasn't very clear in what she said."

"I…" Ella stopped. What was she suppose to say? Whatever Odessa had said about her wanting something more important than this key had made no sense to her, how could she explain it to this man? The only thing more important was Finn. "Did you ever meet a Finn Delaney? Actually, her real name is Winifred, but…"

Will frowned. "Is this person dead?"

"Yes, she drowned at sea. She…she was the one with the key that we are looking for."

Will shook his head. "I don't usually talk to the souls, unless they beg for me to let them live, after which they become part of my crew." Ella could feel tears beginning to form. Finn would never beg for life…Finn never begged for anything. But hearing from this man that she had indeed passed on was still a hard blow. "You want me to retrieve a key that she owned?"

"Yes," said Barbossa.

"What does this key go to?"

"A treasure, of course. You are dealing with black hearted pirates, Master Turner," answered Barbossa cheekily.

"Of course. Where did she drown?"

"Off the coast of England," mumbled Ella. "I think it was right by Selsy."

Will frowned. "I was never there, for no one died at sea there recently. When did she drown?"

Ella's heart began to pound hard. Did that mean Finn might still be alive? "About four years ago. We were separated in a terrible storm."

"Oh," said Will sadly, "I was not captain of this ship then, I would not have seen her anyway."

Just like that, all her small hopes plummeted to the floor at those words. Ella could feel cold tears dripping down her face, which she quickly wiped away. Will was looking at her with a kind, understanding expression on his face. "I will go get this key for you, but it belongs to Ella."

"There is something else, actually," whispered Ella, a thought dawning on her. "Finn had a pocket watch with her. I don't suppose you could retrieve that as well?"

"Of course, Miss Ella." Will took her hand again, kissed it, and patted her on the shoulders. "Don't worry, I'm sure your Finn is safe, and very happy."

"I know. I just wish she didn't leave me here."

"I'm sure that she didn't want to," assured Will in a strained voice. "No one wants to leave the ones they love. That I know." He nodded to Barbossa icily, then vanished to the helm of his ship.

"Where will we find you?" shouted Barbossa to him.

"I will find you!" answered Will. A gurgling sound came from the bottom of the ship, and soon the _Flying Dutchman_ was immersed once again by the ocean.

Barbossa turned to Ella, confusion written all over it. "A pocket watch?"

Ella did not answer, but dislike filled her eyes as she glowered at him. Soon she would have her pocket watch again, and soon she could go back to Savanna. All her life she had wanted an amazing adventure. But now that she was here, Ella was quickly changing her mind. All that she truly wanted was to go back home and be with Richard again.


	14. Treason

AN: Ha ha!!! I have beat the technology! I was trying to update yesterday, but the site wasn't letting me upload the document...go figure. Anyway, I have obviously been successful, for here is a new chapter!

And unfortunately, no, Odessa will not be appearing in any of the other chapters, unless I decide to change my mind...which I might. She was a very fun character to write...

* * *

"Ships spotted on starboard side!" crowed the man in the crow's nest. "Both waving British flags!"

The captain began shouting orders to raise their own flag and to come nearer to the two vessels. Elizabeth looked over the railing, squinting to see against the glare of the sun. Yes, it was the _Hildegard_, Commodore Belmont's ship. She could recognize the golden trim, even from this distance. A smile crept onto her face as she watched the two ships come closer to hers. Soon she could ask for his help, and soon she could have Winnie back.

"Well, Mrs. Turner, this is quite an unexpected visit," greeted Commodore Belmont. "You do realize I am on the chase after Barbossa?"

Elizabeth glanced to the other ship, but couldn't read the name. "Yes, I am aware of that. But there has been another…disappearance."

The Commodore showed no sign of emotion at the news, so Elizabeth continued. "After you left, another pirate attack occurred at Port Royal," she looked sideways at the other ship superstitiously, "and during that time, Winnie disappeared. I think she might have been kidnapped."

"By these pirates that attacked?" The Commodore did not look convinced.

"Well, no. I think it was someone else's doing."

"Who?" Elizabeth grimaced, not quite wanting to reveal that it was Jack Sparrow. She knew that the Commodore would arrest him, but she was slightly hoping that he might have a chance of escape if he was unknown until last minute. "Ah," mused the Commodore, understanding hitting him. "Someone you know, I see."

"Unfortunately," said Elizabeth softly. "I was hoping you might be able to help rescue her. Of course I understand that you are already occupied with Barbossa, though--"

"Of course we will rescue Winifred," interrupted the Commodore suddenly. "Please, captain, bring Mrs. Turner's belongs aboard. We will let you come along."

Elizabeth could honestly say she was genuinely shocked at the proposal as she watched the other captain carry her trunk across the gangplank. Was this even allowed? Glancing around, she could tell that many of the sailors were thinking the same things as herself. Something about this wasn't right.

"Thank you, for bring me to the Commodore," offered Elizabeth to the captain. He smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes, and tipped his hat good bye. Soon the other ship was on her peaceful way, leaving Elizabeth staring out over the railing.

"Men, guns out," commanded the Commodore threateningly. Turning swiftly around, Elizabeth was faced with twenty odd soldiers, all pointing their muskets at her.

"Commodore! What is the meaning of this?" pleaded Elizabeth in a frightened voice.

"Withholding information is the same as treason in the British government, Mrs. Turner," he continued in a dangerous whisper. "I don't intend on having criminals aboard my ship. Lieutenant!"

Richard stepped forward in a smart fashion and saluted. "Please, Richard, help me," begged Elizabeth. "I haven't done anything wrong! What is going on?"

He appeared to ignore her. "Orders, Commodore?"

"Take our guest down to the brig. She will be remaining there for the rest of the voyage. Be at peace, Elizabeth," smiled Belmont, "Winifred will be rescued."

"NO!" she shouted, struggling against Richard. "This is unjust! This is…villainous! _This_ is treason!"

"Elizabeth, please contain yourself," asked Richard forcefully. She snapped her head at him, ready to leash her anger on him as well, but stopped at the look in his eyes. They were honestly worried.

"Lieutenant," reminded Belmont.

Richard saluted and marched Elizabeth below deck, away from the remaining sailors. They entered the brig. It was dank, musty, and there appeared to be a small leak. The only light provided was a flickering lamp that was swaying dangerously from the ceiling.

"Clarissa is here," murmured Richard into Elizabeth's ear.

"What? Clarissa was kidnapped by the pirates that attacked…" She looked at him again, but his expression was hidden by the shadows.

"All is not as it seems, Mrs. Turner. I'm afraid you have put Winnie in greater danger by coming here. Clarissa is trapped, and both of you are practically in line for the gallows."

"Richard, I don't understand," said Elizabeth in a weak voice. "What is the Commodore doing?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but shut it when his name was called from above. "I won't say anything right now. Be careful, and we three might be able to escape."

"We?"

Richard led Elizabeth into a cell without comment and promptly walked away after locking her in, leaving her there shivering and wondering the type of danger she had created for everyone. Indeed, things were not as they seemed.

* * *

Richard lay in his hammock, sleep evading him once again. It had been happening often lately, ever since he had overheard the conversation between Belmont and Dawson. There were too many things to pick apart, too many mysterious events floating around. 

He knew for certain that Belmont wanted Winnie. What for, he wasn't certain, but Winnie was connected to Ella. Ella had been kidnapped, and the Commodore had sent Dawson to kidnap Winnie. It was too coincidental; there was most definitely a connection. Yet, when Belmont had gotten wind of Ella's disappearance he had been honestly shocked. What was he hiding that he was desperate enough to threaten poor Clarissa with her life, and then hold Elizabeth hostage as a criminal?

There was only one way to get the answers he wanted; that was to find Winnie. She was the main factor between all parties involved. Richard reasoned whatever she possessed, it was an object of great value. If he could only know what it was…

But there remained the problem of finding Winnie without Belmont having any contact with her. The only option was escape, however, that was also seen as desertion of the navy, something the government could have his neck for. Was he willing to give his life for this? If worse came to worse, he could always turn to piracy for safety. The thought made him grimace. It was pirates that had created this mess. But whatever it took to save Winnie, and Ella…


	15. Tortuga

AN: Sorry for the delayed update, a nasty predicament called school has popped up recently, and most of my engeries have been focused on keeping afloat amongest the flood of homework assignment. I hope you enjoy this next chapter; it seemed to drag on in my mind, and was rather frustrating to write, so tell me what you all think, and what could make it better.

* * *

The last week of traveling had passed, and I was about ready to shout hosanna for joy. One reason being that I would get to have a least a day on land, blessed land, but most importantly, we would have a crew.

I did not think it was possible, but was ecstatic that soon, there would be other persons on the sloop, pirate or not, I really could have cared less. Why? They would be able to act as a buffer between Jack and I. His attentions would not, for a change, be focused solely on me.

Ever since the last…incident with Sparrow, there was created an underlying tenseness in our interactions. Yes, we talked, yes, we worked together, but whenever I was with him, a definite feeling of uneasiness always swept thru me. I had never fully trusted him before, but now I didn't trust myself around him, and I hated it. Consequently, I attempted to avoid him, if that can be done on a ship.

Of course, he was perfectly aware of how I was feelings, and subsequently, made sure to be by my side when possible. He didn't bother making anymore awkward advances; he didn't need to. All it took was a touch or a pointed look, and my insides would erupt with annoyance and apprehension. I was sure it was to annoy me, mostly because, well, it was annoying me.

But when I stepped onto the dock in Tortuga, my gladness quickly disappeared into the air as I surveyed the scene before me. Whores were strewn across landscape like straw, and an equal amount of customers were strutting around. The air hung heavy with alcohol, smoke, and gunfire, and the noise of screams and raucous laughter nearly blinded all my senses.

"So, luv, what do you think?"

"I think…this is the seventh circle of hell," I finally choked out.

Jack frowned, clearly insulted at my comment. "Now, luv, that's a little harsh…"

"Call me 'luv' or 'darling' one more time, and I will kick your rear end into next week," I said in my most threatening voice. Heck with manners and polite behavior; I did not want to be here, and knowing that I _had_ to be here quickly shortened my temper.

Sparrow had the courtesy to look mildly regretful and worried at my comment. "No need to be scratching eyes out…Finn. It's not like anyone is out to get you." I let my gaze wander to the right of where we were walking, and to my horror, saw three different men giving me a good looking over, sneering and cat calling the whole time. Looking down, I noticed I was still in my nightdress from when we had run off from Port Royal. Jack seemed to have noticed the men as well. "Well, at least no one is out to _kill_ you…can't be so sure about everything else…but have no fear, stay close to ol' Jack, and no harm will come to you."

For once, I honestly believed what he said, though I did give a icy glare when he brought his arm around my waist. Deciding to ignore the action (and the butterflies flittering around in my stomach), I said, "Captain, I'm going to need some new clothes. I can't very well go waltzing around in my nightdress for much longer. I look worse than a whore."

Jack seemed on the verge of saying 'Why not?', but instead nodded his head. "I shall see what can be done in the morning. Can't have the crew eyeing you up and down, won't get any decent work out of them otherwise."

Grimacing at the thought of having grimy, dirty, un-groomed pirates staring at me, I allowed Jack to lead me into a tavern, only to snatch me to the side as a bottle of beer was thrown in our direction. It appeared a small brawl had broken out, and was quickly turning into a full-scale battle. "Surely there is a safer place?" I pleaded, ducking behind his arm to avoid another bottle.

"If only. Unfortunately, there is a very certain man I am trying to find, and this tends to be one of his haunts."

I curled my lips in disgust, following Jack closely as he made his way thru the crowd. "If this is one of the places he bothers to spend his time, I can't say I think highly of him."

"What happened to that stately behavior you so continued to follow? Manners and the whatnot?" teased Jack over his shoulder. "Or am I being too bold to assume that I have finally changed you for the better?"

I blushed, but decided not to answer, as I really had nothing to say. Maybe it had been unfair for me to judge this man before meeting him, though if he was anything like the specimens I saw before me in the raging pub fight, then I was sure my opinions were not far off the mark.

The two of us managed to navigate the remaining distance to the back door in safety, only to appear in front of a small shack with pigs in front of it. Feeding the pigs was a man with sideburns to rival those of the Civil War era. He was graying, and aging lines stretched across his forehead and neck. All in all, his appearance merited that of a pleasant personality, if not a little rough around the edges.

After Jack had conspicuously cleared his throat, the man looked up and smiled widely. "Jack Sparrow! I didn' think I'd be seeing you again for another ten years!" he laughed heartily; apparently the comment was suppose to be some type of joke, though Jack did not seemed particularly amused. "No matter," muttered the man after a moment. "What you doing here in Tortuga?"

"Hiring a crew. I'm chasing after the _Pearl_ again. Why don't we go in a have a drink while discussing the matter?"

"Again? Jack, my friend, after losing a ship twice to the same man, I'd almost say give up. It's not worth you life."

"Ah, but you see, that means he wins. I simply can't allow that." The two men grinned at each other, until the man noticed me.

"Hello there, lass." He furrowed his brows together as if in deep thought. "I haven't seen you around before. You new?"

"No…" I looked toward the tavern, finally catching his meaning. Anger boiled up inside of me, but the best I could do was stand there in shock, mouth open, and shaking in rage.

The man immediately realized his mistake. "Oh, I'm sorry, miss…it's just when I saw you with Jack…"

I spun around, preparing to unleash my fury on Sparrow. "So, this man sees me with you, and just assumes that I'm a whore?" I stood there, moving my mouth like a fish, but no words came out. Instead I raised my hand and slapped him across the cheek as hard as I could.

He went reeling backwards from the force, and emerged cradling his jaw tenderly. "I don't think that was entirely called for, Finn."

"Are you joking?" I seethed.

"No, I'm not. For once, I have done nothing to so much as portray any illegitimate relationship I might be having with a women, other than the fact that I was standing next to you." He stared at me pointedly, obviously expecting some sort of an apology.

My anger was quickly defusing, once I accepted that what he said was true. Jack hadn't done anything, though it did appear his reputation proceeded him. Swallowing, and blushing like a cherry, I let out a small, "Well then, I'm sorry for slapping you." He put his hands together and bowed slightly. "Though, in my defense, the reaction was more of a reflex. I don't appreciate being compared to...well..."

"I tend to awaken that reflex in women quite often," smiled Sparrow, apparently satisfied with my apology. "Now, let's put this unfortunate incident behind us, and step inside and have us a drink."

I followed the two men, who were bantering good-naturedly, blushing still and ashamed. It had been years since I had let my temper get the better of me in public. Though I wanted to blame the man and his comment, something inside me had squirmed at the thought of being labeled as a whore, particularly with Jack Sparrow. It was the uneasy feeling again, and I didn't like it one bit.

The two men wandered around for a moment, trying to find a table that wasn't near the ongoing brawl. They finally chose one that was off to the side in a small room no one else was in there, and it had a slight breeze blowing thru, making it a more or less pleasant place to be. "Finn, why don't you go get us all a drink? Rum preferably." suggested Jack as soon as he and the man had sat down. He handed me a pistol when I began asking not to. "Don't be shy about using it either." With that, he waved me off impatiently, and I went to go do his bidding with a sour look on my face.

The pistol itself probably wouldn't have been much help seeing as I had no idea how it worked, but most of the men in the area were too engrossed in the fight that I was able to get to the bar and retrieve two mugs of rum without mishap. After fishing my way around the remaining crowd, I approached the door, only to halt at the sound of faint mutterings.

It was then that it occurred to me that, maybe, just maybe, they had sent me away to talk without my intrusion. One part said to ignore it and just give them the drinks, but another part insisted that I listen in. If one thing was crystal clear, it was that Jack was hiding something from me, and I didn't like the idea one bit. Tiptoeing to the door, I leaned softly on the wall and began to eavesdrop.

"--has one of them. So, I came up with a plan." It was Jack's voice, and he was sounding very smug, as he usually was.

"Barbossa is not going just give up the ship for information."

"No, but I have a certain…leverage."

"Lever---oh." The two men chuckled together. "Well, then. To leverage!"

"To leverage! Though it appears we have nothing to toast with. Where did that little minx run off to?"

I paused a moment, a little piqued at his new name for me, and then walked in at a brisk pace. "That place is a mad house," I huffed in a frustrated tone, hiding the fact that I had just been overhearing their conversation. "Count yourselves lucky you even have drinks." I plopped the two mugs in front of them, making sure to spill a little as if to magnify my pretended anger.

Jack grumbled in annoyance at the spilled rum, but quickly took a long draught. Sitting down on the third chair, I watched to two men drink wordlessly. "You don't have one," commented the other man after emptying his own mug.

"I don't drink." After having all of those lessons on how alcohol can affect your brain, and then watching it happen to some of my friends, I had avoided alcohol like the plague. The man shrugged and tried to drain the last drops from his cup before leaning back, satisfied.

"What's your name?" I blurted out. The silence was becoming awkward.

"Gibbs," he muttered sleepily. "Joshamee Gibbs. Jack already told me who you were."

"Right."

Jack slammed his mug down on the table loudly, making me jump. "I don't suppose you could be a dear and get me another bit of rum?"

"Do you have money to pay for it?" I challenged.

He fished around in his jacket, then in his pockets, then his sash, then his bandana, a frown forming on his face the whole time. He held out his hands in front of him, empty. "I don't suppose you have some?"

"If I did, I wouldn't be giving it to you."

He turned to Gibbs, a pleading look in his eye. "Sorry, Jack."

Jack sighed resignedly and leaned back. "Oh well."

"Out of curiosity, how do you plan to hire a crew without money?" I asked.

"That's Gibbs job," he mumbled, tipping his hat over his eyes.

Another long silence. The two men seemed perfectly content to sit there and fall asleep, but after looking around, I decided that I most definitely wanted a safer place to rest. I poked Jack slightly, waking him from his doze. "What is it, luv?" he mumbled softly.

"I don't suppose we could go back to the boat?"

He blinked, trying to wake up. "Why don't we just rent a room here instead."

"You have no money."

"Oh, right." He stood grandly, waving his arms around, and tapped Gibbs on the shoulder. "We're going to be leaving now, mate. Just meet me by the docks in the morning, hm?" Gibbs waved him away with his hand, showing he had heard and wanted to be left alone. Jack took me by the shoulders and led me through the tavern, which was still as lively as ever.

Tortuga didn't seem to know what sleep was either, for when I stepped out of the building, the screaming and laughing was just as loud. Wincing, I let Jack take me back to the sloop, tiredness taking over my body. I just barely managed to get to my hammock and collapse into it.

* * *

The morning was bright and cheerful, opposite of the sight I had watched the night before. Jack was on the dock, viewing the men Gibbs had collected, most of whom appeared at least middle aged. Sparrow was waving his hands around while asking questions, which was intimidating more than one poor fellow.

I had opted to say on the sloop and enjoy my last few quiet moments. Last night had not allowed for me to think about what Jack and Gibbs had discussed before I arrived, but now I was turning it thoughtfully around in my head.

First off, someone had _something_. It was too bad I had come too late to catch the name, but it was obviously important; though I had a feeling it was Barbossa. Secondly, Jack had said something about leverage for having the _Pearl_ returned to him. Before that, Gibbs had said something about information. What was it that Jack knew that Barbossa would want to know? It was all so confusing, yet I felt as if the answer was just out of my reach. There was more to this, and I knew the rest, I just didn't know what. In a sense, I had all the pieces to the puzzle, I just couldn't seem to put them together.

I had always hated puzzles.

"Finn, darling, why don't you go up to helm while we prepare to cast off?" yelled Jack from the docks.

I leaned over the railing to see at least forty pairs of eyes gaping at me. A few of the younger men began to grin suggestively, making me blush furiously. "I don't suppose you have those clothes you promised me?"

"Ah, yes." Jack pushed his way thru the crew after picking up a small bundle, and boarded the sloop, handing it to me. "Gibbs couldn't convince any of the ladies here to part with their dresses, but he was able to put his hands on some breeches and a shirt."

"That's fine, I like pants better anyway. Thank you."

Jack left, and I entered his cabin so I could change privately. The shirt was a little big, but lightweight. The breeches were actually a pretty good fit, seeing as I actually had hips. I fished around the cabin and was able to find a strip of fabric to act as a sash so as to stop the shirt from billowing around me. Stepping out, I was met with awed stares and dirty faces.

"Get to work men!" ordered Jack gruffly when the action had stopped. They complied, and soon supplies were once again being loaded. I looked up at Jack as I made my way to the helm, a little frightened. For once he was not a cocky, annoying pirate that managed to get on my nerves; he was a confident captain who was ready to lead his ship out to sea. I wasn't really sure how to deal with the new Jack Sparrow, and that made me nervous.

I stood to the side for the remaining hour it took to cast off, fidgeting and lonely. I caught Jack looking toward me a few times, but otherwise, he just ignored me. Believe it or not, this irked me quite a bit, but I pushed it aside. He needed to get this ship out of port, not talk to me.

And thus started my great adventure.


	16. Oh Ye of Little Faith

AN: Once again, so sorry for the late updates...but once again, school is at fault. (It's so nice to have an inanimate thing to blame all of your problems on). Anyway, this chapter is much longer than usual to make up for all the lost time. As always, enjoy!

* * *

I suppose the trip could have been worse.

Aside from having to avoid the drunken mongrels that would stare at me below deck and working so hard it made my hands raw and blistered, the voyage was slightly enjoyable. Jack would still talk to me, but I didn't have an uneasy feeling when he walked into a room anymore. Every now and then he would flash a smile in my direction that would make my heart do a somersault, but otherwise our interactions were more or less normal. He still annoyed me once in a while, but seeing as he no longer inflicted his presence upon me twenty four seven, it was easier to stand him.

Gibbs proved to be rather pleasant, always telling some silly sailor's tale or teaching me some sea chantey. He taught me how to scrub the deck without working my hands raw (but I still did), how to mend ropes, how to manage the rigging (though I wasn't quite strong enough to be of any use). He was the one whom I spent most of my time with, though more often than not, Jack was standing close, always with a clever remark or teasing statement on hand.

For once in a long time, I was content and carefree, even without any close friends. The crew may have been made up of rather shady characters, but they did as asked and we were making good headway. We would soon catch up to Barbossa, and then Ella would be safe. There was only one thing I was worried about: would this crew risk their life to save a girl they didn't even know, for a captain they had only been under for a few weeks?

The question troubled me for some time. If I had been in their shoes, I would definitely been hard pressed to do what Jack was asking of them. However, I was extremely hesitant to question him about it, seeing as last time I did that…well…I didn't dwell on that thought too often. It still made me squirm to think about it.

It was during dinnertime on a very long day that I got my chance. I had finished early, and, wanting to get away from the rambunctious crew, flew up onto the deck, expecting to be alone. Instead, there was Jack, holding his compass, and staring out to the sea.

"Hey," I said softly, coming up beside him.

"Hello, Finn." He creased his eyebrows together and shook his compass before smiling gallantly again. I peeked over his arm to see what was wrong.

"That doesn't point north!" I exclaimed. "Surely you aren't leading us across the ocean with _that_."

Jack only grinned mischievously. "We aren't trying to find north, now are we?"

"You're mad! Do you have any idea where we are?"

"Just off the coast of the Virgin Isles. I'm not totally helpless as a captain, luv."

"Of course," I agreed halfheartedly, deciding not to ask for further explanation. "I just don't want you getting lost when we are trying to save Ella." Jack snorted, obviously a little insulted. I twiddled my thumbs a few times before continuing. "Speaking of which, how do you know the crew is going to fight for you? If I were them, I would not be terribly inclined to put my life on the line for something that doesn't really concern me, if you don't mind me…asking."

"They're getting paid. It's enough of an incentive for them."

I glanced sideways nervously, wondering if I should ask the question that was begging to be said. Softly, I said, "Don't you ever want a crew that will fight for you because they care about _you_?"

At my question, Jack went slightly rigid and a little glossy eyed. "That would involve getting attached to them. If I did, then I would lose the one thing that mattered most to me: freedom. You know," he turned to me, more at ease now, "I think that's your problem. You get attached to people too easily. You're tied down. Now, as for me, I have absolutely nothing, allowing me to fly to my heart's content."

"You're attached to the _Pearl_," I countered. "You speak of freedom and flying, yet here you are, following some silly boat across the Caribbean."

Fire erupted in his eyes at my statement. "The _Black Pearl_ is not some silly boat. She's my _ship_."

"My point exactly. You care about that ship." Jack breathed in sharply, obviously mad that I was clearly right. "It's not in human nature to _not_ care about something. You'll never be able to escape that."

We stood in silence for a time, just watching the sun sink below the horizon, casting golden rays through the lapping waves. It was a clear evening, and soon stars were peeking out shyly in the east, and a full moon rose out behind them.

"Don't you get lonely?" I asked quietly.

"Why would I get lonely?" challenged Jack gruffly.

"No friends."

"Of course I have friends."

"To have a friend, you need to care about them," I answered. "Otherwise, they're really just acquaintances."

Jack didn't answer. Instead, he flipped open his compass, shook it again, then closed it. "What about your family? Do you care about them?" I continued.

"I had four sisters and one brother, me being the oldest. A flu epidemic swept through the village we lived in. I was at sea, and when I came back, all except my father and mother were dead, and they had gone off to who knows where. I was never particularly close to my folks."

"I'm sorry." It was a weak answer, and I was ashamed only give it to offer. Maybe Jack's life was harder than I had imagined.

I looked at my hands, blistered and red from all the sudden strain I had put on them. It was strange, really, to be working again, like I used to. Back at home, I would work all the time in the yard with my father and in the garden with my mother. I missed them.

"Why do you care?" asked Jack out of the blue. "Why does it matter whether I feel 'lonely' or not?"

"Because I hate to see people hurting," I muttered.

"But why me?" he pressed. I was a little alarmed by the forcefulness in his voice, and shrunk back slightly. "No one has ever really given a damn about what happened to me, not even my own parents. I'm a pirate, a criminal! As far as anyone else is concern, I ought to be hanging from the gallows."

"I…I don't know why." I stared at him, apprehension creeping up. His eyes were dark and sharp, and for once, he looked…worried. Or was it fear? I couldn't tell in the fading light. Maybe it was anger, or…excitement? I gulped, afraid to look away from his piercing gaze. "Would you prefer I didn't care about you?"

Jack smiled a little at my banter. "Is that possible?"

I blushed, and my insides began to squirm. Again. What was wrong with me? "I don't know," I finally stuttered out. "I don't know why I care about you. I mean, why I care about what…happens to you."

I glanced out of the corner of my eye, utterly embarrassed and dearly wishing I could just disappear. Jack wasn't looking at me, but was grinning and stroking the railing affectionately. "But you do care?" he asked softly.

My insides felt like a furnace and I was sure my face was the same color as a strawberry. This conversation had gone much deeper than intended, and I was afraid of what would happen if I told the truth. Unfortunately, I couldn't just lie to a question like that, and deep inside myself, I knew the truth. "Yes, I care." My voice was quiet, blending in with the wind that whipped around us, but I knew Jack had heard the answer.

Just like that, all the awkwardness melted away. For once, I felt I was talking to a real human being, not the legendary Captain Jack Sparrow. Yet, I was frightened. The two of us had opened ourselves as far as we could go emotionally in front of the other. Why had I done that? Never before had I allowed anyone to get that close to understanding me, even if it was only in a few words. Why him?

"I suppose it's nice to have someone who cares," he whispered.

I turned my head to look at Jack, not sure if I was suppose to hear the comment. He was staring intently at me with his dark, warm eyes, moving ever so slightly nearer. Reaching out, he took my hand and pulled me toward him so our bodies were only inches away. I felt like I was going to up and fly away at his touch, and I couldn't understand why.

If Gibbs hadn't barreled up the stairs singing "15 men on a dead man's chest" at the top of his lungs, I think I just might have sprouted wings. Before he could see it, Jack had let go of me and was waltzing over jauntily to Gibbs.

"Cap'n!" he greeted drunkenly. "Fine night for some singing, eh?"

"I wholeheartedly agree, Gibbs. Why don't you assist me in getting a bottle of rum, and we can sing to our hearts delight after?" Taking him by the arm, Sparrow led Gibbs to his cabin, but not before turning to me and flashing a magnificent golden smile.

I had to force myself to remember how to breath before leaning onto the rail for support. "What's wrong with me?" I gasped softly. "What's happening?" What was it about this man that he could be unbearable to me one minute, then have me completely entranced the next? The twisting, raging uneasy feeling was thick in my stomach, and refused to melt away as I stumbled toward my hammock, nor when I closed my eyes to go to sleep.

* * *

After our heart to heart that night, my time with Jack was minimal, and for once, it wasn't because I was attempting to avoid him. As we neared the _Pearl_, nasty whether seemed to zone in on us. For the next three days, our sloop was stuck with no wind or cloud cover. To say the least, it was utter and absolute hell. With the sun beating down on us combined with the sweat and heat and blisters and sunburn, and with worse conditions below deck, I was about ready to take a pistol and shoot myself. On the second day, after seeing that the situation was not going to be changing any time soon, Jack had the crew get to work on pulling the ship forward by means of rowboats and sweeps.

Originally, he wouldn't let me help, saying this type of work was for the men folk. Well, after being on a ship for more than a month, my old, hardened muscles were coming back from my teens years, and I insisted that he let me help manage the sweeps, saying I would rather die trying to get out of this mess than sitting and watching. The speech must have had some sort of affect (or he was too tired to argue) because soon I was between him and Gibbs, rowing along.

"I have to say, for being a rich brat's governess, you are sure full of surprises," huffed Jack. It was late afternoon, and we were still plodding along at a horribly low speed. He had stripped his shirt off, and now instead was coated with sweat, perspiration dripping down the sides of his flushed cheeks.

I really wasn't looking much better. My chocolate hair was plastered to my sun burnt face, and my shirt was sticky with sweat on my aching body. Gibbs, that lucky devil, had the shady spot on the bench, and was neither particularly sweaty or red.

"I wasn't a governess my whole life, of course," I answered weakly. "Work isn't exactly a foreign pastime for me."

"Where did you live before hand?"

"America." I had learned through experience this was a safe answer, seeing as very few folks really cared which colony I was from.

"Which colony?"

Dang it.

"Um…what do you think?" I asked slyly, deciding to make it a guessing game.

Jack glared at me, the sun framing his face. "Don't do this to me right now, Finn."

"Well…I'm not really in a colony…" I said weakly as he stared expectently at me.

"Your family criminal then?" piped up Gibbs. Jack seemed upset at the question, but actually, it made perfect sense to me, thanks to my amazing history teachers. As the colonies were being formed, certain ones, mainly Georgia, became a drop off for criminals from England. Also included in this were the Scots and Irish, many of whom went off to settle to Appalachian Mountains, instead of staying in the colonies.

"Scottish, actually," I answered.

"No you aren't," Jack cut in. "I've met a few fellows from there. The accent is so strong, you can't understand half of what they're saying. Now that I think about it, I haven't heard your accent anywhere."

"I don't have an accent," I grumbled.

"Yes you do, Miss Delaney," said Gibbs. "And it certainly isn't Scottish."

"Where are you really from?"

I stayed silent, reviewing everything I had ever learned in history. Before coming here, I had lived in New Mexico, but at this time, it would have still been Spanish territory, and if one thing was certain, my accent wasn't Spanish.

"Finn?"

"You've never heard of it."

"I've probably traveled to more places than you even knew existed. Try me."

I bit my lip and squinted toward him. He was focused on me, waiting for my answer impatiently. "Ask me again when we aren't sweaty and ready to scream from frustration, and I might just tell you."

"I'm holding you too that."

I didn't believe him. In fact, I was counting that he was going to completely forget the conversation due to the fact that his attentions would be entirely taken by the time consuming situation at hand.

I was right, of course. After the third day of no wind, it finally picked up…only to blow in a raging storm that kept the already tired crew up for a day and a night. When that finally blew over, clouds seemed to follow us where ever we went, drizzling nonstop for a week straight. It was nice; for the first two hours. When everything was either soaked or damp, I was about as miserable as I had been when the sun was turning my body into a crisp.

Oh how I missed land.

* * *

Finally, the day came where the constant dripping of water ceased, and the sun shone brightly, bring strong wind in its wake. The sky was a crystal blue, dotted every now and then with a bleach cloud. Dolphins were following the sloop, exciting the crew, for they were supposed to be some fortune of good luck.

And indeed, good luck did come, in the eyes of our captain that is. That day the man in the crow's nest announced a frigate to be heading our way from the north with the name of _Flying Fortune_.

How this could be good, I didn't know, but the crew went into an absolute frenzy at the announcement. They were whooping and shouting and yelping like it was Christmas time.

Then I remembered, oh yeah, I'm traveling with pirates.

Then I also remembered we were in a sloop.

And that _that_ ship was a frigate.

"Jack, are you crazy?" I shouted as I ran up the steps to the helm. He was just standing there, enjoying the cool breeze that was blowing thru, smiling like a little kid who had just seen Santa Claus.

"Why would you think that?" he teased.

"I may not be a sailor, but I have enough sense in my head to realize that this sloop is going to be turned into kindling by the cannons on that frigate. How many do we have, ten? Twelve?"

"Fourteen, to be precise."

"Okay, and frigates can hold anywhere from…oh, twenty to forty guns! You're sending us to our deaths!"

"You forgot one very important thing, luv." He held out his hands and smiled winningly, "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

I wasn't buying the charade. "So? Are those words magic? Do they suddenly increase the size of this sloop? Do they double the cannons? Honestly, Jack, do you really think _you_ and your legend can make that much of a difference?"

Sparrow peered out of his spy glass before collapsing it and turning once again to me. "Oh ye of little faith." I must have looked shocked, because he continued, "And please, don't faint. Yes, I have read the Bible once in my life."

"I don't care what you have and haven't read!" I fumed. "Why in the world are you going to attack a _frigate_?"

"If you think Barbossa is going to give the _Pearl_ back without some sort of trade, you, my dear, are terribly mistaken."

"But…a _frigate_?"

"You do realize I am a captain?" Jack had taken my arm and was leading me down the stairs briskly. "Now, this is going to be a little…messy. Do me a favor, luv, and barricade yourself in my quarters. Wouldn't want anything happening to that pretty face of yours, hm?" He pinched my cheeks lightly before going back to the helm, leaving me annoyed and blushing furiously.

I did as he asked of course, seeing as I wasn't particularly excited about going into battle or any of that nonsense. Truthfully, I wasn't much of a fighter unless I became really aggravated. Heck, I felt guilty after killing spiders.

Soon cannons could be heard blasting the wood to bits, and I curled up on the floor, flinching with each boom, though I wasn't exactly frightened, just dearly hoping I wasn't going to be pummeled with shrapnel or splintered wood. Boom after boom was heard…then it was quiet. I crawled over to the door, wondering if it was safe to go up on deck. Had Jack really beaten the frigate? Just like that?

Then I heard the gunshots, loud, earsplitting blasts that made me jump. Boots were heard pounding the wood above me, shouts piecing through the smoke and gun powder that surely filled the air.

And here I was, crouching down in this cabin. I wasn't mad that I wasn't out there fighting, I didn't want to fight. However…I was terribly curious about what was actually happening out there. Who was winning? That fact that I was stuck here, having to guess, not being able to watch with my own eyes, was making me restless and itchy.

When things were sounding more subdued, I let temptation take over. Opening the door a crack, I saw I was gravely mistaken. Soldiers were fighting the pirates for all they were worth…and from the looks of it, winning. I opening it wider, I scanned the deck, trying to find Jack. He was no where to be seen.

"Oi! A lady!"

It appeared a young fellow had spotted me, and was now proceeding to run over and, from the determination etched on his face, rescue me. Unfortunately, I was too shocked that I had been noticed to explain to the poor guy that I really didn't _want_ to be rescued. So, seeing as I wasn't doing anything that resembled struggling, he grabbed my arm roughly and began trying to lead me through the carnage.

We didn't get very far. As soon as I was out on deck, there was a heavy thud behind me, and a tanned fist shot out from behind my head to punch the soldier in the back of the skull, which then proceeded to snatch my waist and hold me to him.

Of course I realized it was Jack and began to relax…until he put a gun to my head.

"STOP!!!" he bellowed, making my cringe.

"Jack, what in the world--" he pressed the pistol harder into my head, and I stopped talking, shaking like a leaf, praying that I would be alright.

Amazingly enough, it took all of twenty seconds before both crews were staring dumbstruck at my ashen countenance in silence. "Now, here's the deal," continued Jack in a loud voice, "You hand over the frigate, supplies and all, to us without trouble. You don't, this girl dies. Savvy? Now, you fine men wouldn't want her blood on your head, would you?"

This was ridiculous. What right did this criminal think he had to use me as a bartering chip? Fury was filling my insides, and I began to struggle, screaming and twisting to try and escape his grasp.

It was at this point that I truly appreciated how strong Jack was. He moved his arm up so it enveloped both of my arms and squeezed hard, almost pushing out all of the air in my chest, stopping both my screaming and my struggling. To top it off, he replaced the muzzle so it fitted snugly under my chin. "Well, men, get moving!" ordered Jack.

"You will of course be letting us have the girl?" shouted the other captain.

Jack smirked evilly, giving me a quick pinch on the side. "Now, why would I do that?"

After maybe twenty minutes, the two parties had switch ships entirely, and Sparrow was now leading me across the gangplank, the pistol still securely under my chin and his arms still holding my body. "Wonderful doing business with you!" said Jack cockily. "Best of luck, mates!"

The sloop had turned and sailing away when Jack mumbled, "I can't believe I didn't think of that sooner." He released me and stretched contently. "Well that's that. Wonderful acting there, luv."

"That wasn't acting," I hissed dangerously.

"Oh." He furrowed his brow uncomfortably. "Then I can assume you are not particularly pleased with me?"

"Correct," I growled, stalking up on him. Seeing this, Jack began to back away swiftly.

"No need to be physical, darling. You know I was never going to actually hurt you. It just needed to look realistic."

"That's Miss Delaney to you!" I snarled, successfully cornering Jack against a wall. Tilting my head up slightly, I continued in a threatening voice, "I cannot believe you had the gal to do that! Do you have any idea how frightened and confused I was?" Jack, for the first time that I can recall, actually looked really, truly sorry, but I didn't give him time to explain. "For you to turn on me like that! The least you could have done was explain what was going on! You think I enjoyed having a gun pointed at my head? You bast--"

"Now, now, Finn, no need to be vulgar," interjected Jack, stopping my insult with his hand. "You're a reasonable women and--"

That was the last straw. Pulling my arm back, I punch him squarely in the cheek, sending him reeling to the side. Pain flared up in my knuckles, though I did see a trickle of blood dripping from behind Jack's hand as he cradled his face, giving me a small ounce of satisfaction.

Jack raised his head to glare at me after a moment. "_That_ was uncalled for, women."

I blinked at the sudden harshness in his tone, and the way he addressed me. I suddenly felt terribly guilty for hitting him, and frankly, was becoming uneasy.

"You do realize that to hit the captain is a terrible offense? I do believe that in the navy, the punishment is death."

"Well, we aren't in the navy," I answered softly, backing away a little.

"Sometimes, I think they have a few things going for them," Jack mumbled under his breath. I doubted it was an answer to my comment, and I probably wasn't suppose to hear it at all, but the comment stung. Hard.

I didn't say anything. I don't think I could have anyway. Everything that had happened, that was happing, seemed too surreal to be true. Maybe I shouldn't have lashed out so crudely at Jack, but when he was pretending to threaten me, I was scared. Really, truly scared for my life. I had never trusted Jack entirely before, or his crew, and to have him do _that_ to me had been horrible, terrifying. I couldn't seem to think straight. Is this what happened to people when they go into shock?

Of all things to start thinking about, it was my first aid training from high school. Elevate the feet, keep them warm, talk to the victim and sooth them, tell them everything is going to be okay.

Well, I certainly didn't have anyone doing that for me. Gritting my teeth, I walked away, Jack still glaring fiercely at me, holding his cheek gingerly. The crew was silent, watching, almost waiting for something to happen. Nothing was going to happen, that was for sure. All they were going to get would be a sullen mask.

I walked down below deck and curled up in my hammock the best I could. I wasn't going to cry, not now of all times. But despite my resolve, a few tears escaped. I brushed them away, trying to suppress a scream of frustration and an emotion I couldn't quite put my finger on, but was bursting inside of me.

I missed Ella so badly. If she had been here, we would be laughing away the events of today, making a joke or too, saying what a grand time we were having. But for whatever reason, things did not seem so grand when had no one to share them with. It wasn't until that point I realized that I was truly, utterly alone. Or maybe I had realized it, and decided to ignore the fact. I was very good at ignoring things I didn't like.

But I couldn't ignore _this_ anymore.

No, I was scared, and worried what was going to happen to me. Would Jack hold true to his promise? Then again, how could he really break it? Biting my lip, my resolve to not cry broke, and soon I was asleep, tear stained and miserable.

* * *

Jack twirled a chain round and around his fingers, watching it blankly as it twinkled in the candlelight. His cheek was swollen now, and still stinging, though he wasn't so sure if it was from the pain or from something else.

So, maybe it had been a little rude to use her like that. Wincing, Jack begrudgingly decided it was a lot more than 'a little rude', something he dearly didn't want to consciously admit to himself.

But still…punching him…even Finn had been justified in that. The whole ordeal had obviously shaken her quite a bit, even if she was expertly hiding that fact. He had seen her become angry, flustered, annoyed, all of which she had tried to hide, but not successfully. However, he had never seen her scared and frightened, and she had hidden those to emotions _very_ well behind a mask of anger and annoyance. It made him wonder how many times Finn had pretended one thing while really concealing what she was really feeling.

The other aspect that truly bugged Jack was that she clearly had no trust for him, or anyone on the ship for that matter. It was, in truth, a very smart move to make, and Finn was no fool, but all the same, it was annoying. Women usually fawned over him, believed everything he said, yet here was Finn, critical and sharp, never letting down her guard with him for a second.

Well, maybe she had once or twice. Smiling, Jack rubbed his cheek gingerly, recalling their encounter many nights ago on deck. She hadn't been hiding anything then; that had been the genuine Finn speaking to him, no mask, no pretending, just the truth.

Not many women spoke like that to him.

And at the same time, he had been speaking the utmost truth as well, though it was embarrassing to remember. Though he didn't dare say it to anyone else, he was a little lonely. And knowing that Finn cared, for what reason he didn't understand, helped. It helped a lot.

Now that he had considered it, the moment had been rather nice. In fact, almost perfect. Just the two of them talking, nothing to hide, just them.

Jack growled softly, wanted to punish himself for being to sentimental. Next thing he knew, he was going to actually be _attached_ to this women, something he certainly couldn't afford. Not only would Finn never allow it, but it would be silly. Preposterous.

But still, the look in her eyes this afternoon, it made him cringe inwardly whenever he recalled it…


	17. Understanding

AN: Once again, sorry for such a long gap between the updates, and once again, the ridiculous amount of homework is at fault for stunting my creative abilities. It also didn't help that this chapter was tremendously boring for me to write, since I am all-knowing about my story, and this chapter is strictly informational. I hope it clears things up for you if you were getting confused by the...four or five different story lines I am forcing you to follow. If you have any questions, feel free to messege me or just say it in a review. Enjoy!

* * *

Ella wandered across the deck of the _Pearl_, staring daggers at anyone who dare make eyes at her. It was mid-afternoon, and disgustingly sweaty and humid. Wiping a bead of perspiration from her forehead, she climbed up to the stairs to where Barbossa was standing, staring out of his eyeglass impatiently. When he noticed her, he shut it and smiled, though it did not reach his eyes. "Miss Bronte. How pleasant to see you gracing my deck once again."

Ella snorted in disbelief. "What are you looking for?"

"Master Turner."

"England is far across the Atlantic Ocean. It's going to be a long trip. Anyway, I would be more worried about the navy trailing you," she answered sourly.

"Oh, and why is that, Miss Bronte?"

"You kidnapped me, and I hold an important key of the Commodore's. Not to mention you are a wanted criminal. If that isn't enough incentive for the navy to track you down, then I don't know what is."

Barbossa smiled knowingly. "The _Black Pearl_ is the fastest ship in the Caribbean. Even if they were to find us, they would have to catch us, which, I promise, they could never do. I will never worry about the navy."

Ella clutched the railing angrily. "I will be rescued, mark my words. I could care less about how fast this stupid ship is, the Commodore will rescue me."

"But of course, Miss Bronte."

Ella could feel a snarl escaping her mouth and raised her fist to hit him, but Barbossa sent a warning stare, and she dropped her hand, still fuming. "What is so important about these keys?" she insisted after a moment, collecting her frenzied thoughts. Barbossa began drumming on his eyeglass and watched as the sails whipped in the breeze carelessly. "Well?"

"I was thinking, whether to tell you or not." Ella raised her eyebrows expectantly, and Barbossa continued. "The keys go to a treasure."

"Is it big?"

"It is not of gold, so I suppose, in a way, it is not."

"A pirate not looking for gold. That's about as common as a blue moon," responded Ella sourly.

"This treasure is sought after by many more than pirates. I do believe even your precious Commodore is looking for it, seeing as he had one of the keys."

"What is it?" Though she would never admit it, Ella was rather intrigued.

"Eternal Youth."

"You mean, the Fountain of Youth? But that doesn't exist!"

"Neither did Davy Jones, or Calypso, or cursed treasure, yet, I have encountered all three." Barbossa sighed wearily, a sigh that revealed all the trials he had ever faced, the dangers, and suddenly, Ella wondered how he ever came to be a pirate. "I have learned thru experience that the supernatural is not at all…uncommon. I wholly believe that the Fountain exists and is real, and I intend to find it."

Barbossa stood more erectly, his gaze piercing the horizon fiercely. "I _will_ find the Fountain of Youth. Nothing can stop me, not from a chance like that. To begin again."

For a brief moment, Ella felt a twinge of pity for the man standing before her. Something in the way he talked, the way he stood so straight yet menacing told a story that she couldn't seem to hear. "How did you become what you are?" she blurted out.

Barbossa raised an eyebrow. "I hardly think you honestly care."

"I still want to know."

Chuckling, he walked to the helm, wind catching his hair. "I have endured many experiences, many storms and trials that have made me how I am. Those don't matter, as I have come to realize. Let it suffice to say I am quite happy with where I am now. The only thing I regret is i could not get here sooner, or live my life longer, something I intend to fix through the Fountain of Youth."

He looked at her, and Ella knew that Barbossa wasn't lying. He enjoyed this life of stealing and plundering, of killing and taking. This fact made Ella narrow her eyes angrily. "I always believed that there is some good in people. I don't know that I can say the same for you. Your heart is so black and dirty…I don't know what to say!"

Barbossa cackled at the comment. "I have good in me still. It's just that there is so much more bad. Pirates are not all fun and games, Miss Bronte. Pirates are villains. We take what we want and give nothing back. It would do you good to keep that in mind."

He left, leaving Ella to stand there, not sure what to make of the this encounter.

* * *

Elizabeth picked at the thread in her dress, one that was now stained with water and dirt. She didn't know how long she had been down there; she just stopped counting after the first few days. It wasn't that she had given up hope, but more that she truly had lost any care. She had a feeling that she would remain alive, until they at least found Sparrow and Winnie. With that thought in mind, she honestly couldn't care how long she was in this terrible brig.

Of course she missed everyone back home: Robert, Isabella and Arielle, the maids. They were the constant force in her everyday life, the one that reminded her she was just another person in this world, the force that kept her sane when Will was gone.

But now they were gone too, leaving her alone with her dangerous thoughts. Thoughts of Will, what could have happened, what if he were still mortal…a few tears escaped, but she wiped them away hurriedly. She did not dare begin to think of these things again. It hurt to have him gone, but she was slowly becoming numb to the fact, the memory. Tears like this had been common the first few months when he had left. Many times it was just her in the bedroom, crying the night away, alone in her bed. But she was Elizabeth Swann, and eventually the tears stopped coming every night. She was strong, and she would remain strong, even if it meant staying at home for ten years alone, wondering if Will would come to see her again, or spending time here in this dinky cell.

A soldier was heard coming down the stairs, no doubt with some food, something she had been increasingly in lack of. The man, or boy, to be more precise, came forward, offering the bread and mug of beer to her. She snatched them hungrily and devoured the bread in three bites, despite its staleness.

"I wish to speak with the Commodore," Elizabeth requested. It was a request she had uttered every time a man came down, and as she expected, the soldier rolled his eyes.

"And as usual, the answer will be no, Miss Swann."

"Mrs. Turner."

"Sorry, ma'm. My mistake."

Elizabeth took a sip from the mug. "Why won't he talk to me? Surely, as a prisoner, I have a right to know with what I am charged with?"

"Treason," the boy answered automatically.

"Yes, but what precisely?" The private gave no response, but instead shifted his feet uncomfortably, not meeting her inquiring eyes. "I want to know what is going on. I need to understand what is happening right now."

"Of course, Mrs. Turner. I'm sorry." With that, the young man disappeared above decks once again, leaving Elizabeth alone, dejected and frustrated.

She sat down on the hay scattered across the floor, flicking a flea off of her dress thoughtlessly. If only she _did_ know what was going on. Richard, so long ago, had been too cryptic for her to make head or tail of the matter, a fact that irked her continuously. The commodore was hiding _something_, and Clarissa was involved. But _what_ this thing was, Elizabeth could not imagine. What would cause Belmont to kidnap Clarissa, and charge her with treason, and which kept Richard so silent?

The quick sound of boots on wood came down to meet Elizabeth's ears, followed by Richard, who was looking a little flustered.

"Elizabeth? How are you?"

"Richard, what's wrong?"

He glanced up above, then came over and kneeled down next to her. "I heard a rumor that you were going to be transferred to the _Midas_ tonight. I wanted to talk to you before then."

"Tonight? To that other ship?" Richard nodded regretfully. "Why is that other ship there?"

"I don't have a lot of time, so I'll try and talk fast. No one knows I'm down here yet." He proceeded to explain what he had heard between Dawson and Belmont the two nights he was still on deck.

"Wait, so Dawson what suppose to kidnap Winnie?" interjected Elizabeth, aghast at the news.

Richard nodded. "Weird things have been happening every since she and Ella came here. Though, I don't know why Belmont is bothering to rescue Winnie, let alone kidnapping her."

"Winnie has some things of value, a map and key. Maybe this is the reason, or is connected in some way."

Richard rubbed his chin for a moment. "I reckon it probably is. But I wonder, what does this key open?"

"The Fountain of Youth! Jack Sparrow was telling us about it over breakfast the day of the kidnapping." A light of understanding seemed to enter her eyes. "I wonder if he overheard Winnie and I discussing it. That would be why he kidnapped her!"

Richard nodded in understand. "Out of everyone who has become mixed up in this, she is probably in the safest position. Sparrow, if my memory serves me correctly, tends to be less…crude than many known pirates." Elizabeth nodded in agreement. "But she won't stay like that, not if Belmont is going after her. She needs to get off that ship fast. The Commodore is doing everything in his power to try and find Sparrow."

"Of course," muttered Elizabeth. She looked at Richard, a mix between relief and weariness written on her face. "Well, that certainly clears everything up. I assume this is the reason why Barbossa kidnapped Ella so long ago? Though, how is she tied into all of this?"

Richard frowned thoughtfully. "I had almost forgotten about that. I suppose Ella must have something pertaining to all of this as well."

"The other key," said Elizabeth softly. "Jack said something about two keys, but Winnie only had one. Ella must have the other key."

"The Commodore's key!"

"Yes! This is beginning to make sense!"

"Of course! Barbossa kidnapped Ella, somehow discovering she had this key. That's why the Commodore went all the way to Savanna to rescue her; he knew that Barbossa was after the Fountain of Youth!"

"It was just coincidence that Jack showed up, but he overheard the discussion between Winnie and I, which was the reason he kidnapped her. Then he would have gone after Barbossa for his ship. I remember him mentioning that."

Richard raised his eyebrows. "How does he plan to get his ship back?"

Elizabeth started fiddling with her fingers. "I suppose he could try and buy it, but he has no money. The only thing he could do is trade something in return, but he has nothing." Suddenly her face went white, and she looked at Richard, horrified. "You don't suppose he's going to--"

He stood up quickly, unexpectedly, and whatever Elizabeth had been considering quickly vanished. Shouting was heard overhead, and "Tremaine" was distinguishable above all of the noise. "I need to go, I'm not suppose to be down here." Kneeling down, her took her hand comfortingly. "Be strong, and safe. I don't think I'm going to be seeing you again."

"Why?"

He glanced up the stairs, before leaning down and whispering, "I'm going to try and escape. Belmont is becoming suspicious, of the whole crew, but I have the closest ties to everyone involved. It's to dangerous, and I can't be any help dead."

"Good luck," answered Elizabeth as he scurried up the stairs.

Richard had been right. Two hours later, Elizabeth woke up the sound of keys in a keyhole, and two soldiers dragging her unceremoniously out to the deck, dropping her roughly before walking away.

Raising her head, she found herself next to Belmont, dark and menacing in the still of night. At the moment, she had the mind to tell him exactly what she was feeling with some choice words, but it occurred to her that it would be best to remain silent. Belmont was not aware she knew so much, and it was safer to stay that way.

A muffled sob was heard next to her, and turning her head, she beheld Clarissa, dirty, unkempt, and miserable. Unlike Elizabeth, she was tied up securely with rope, with a cloth to soften her cries.

Mustering some strength and much courage, Elizabeth stood up to face the Commodore, who had a nasty expression on his face, one between loathing, scorn, and arrogance. "I demand to know the meaning of his," she stated in her most formal voice, one she had picked up from her father when he was conducting business.

"That is none of your concern," growled Belmont. "Finally, you arrive. What took you so?"

A man, blonde and younger in years, and rather largely built. Elizabeth recognized him as Dawson, but held her tongue. The pirate snorted haughtily. "I had to prepare living quarters for the ladies." Smiling, he revealed a row of rotted teeth, a smile that would have been pleasant to see if he was not doing so in such a terribly suggestive and vile way. Inwardly, Elizabeth cringed, though outwardly showed no emotion. Clarissa, as predicted, let loose a stifled scream of terror, causing Dawson to smile wider. "Of course, the only available space was the brig, though my men did offer their own beds."

Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to hurl at the thought, and nearly did, had Belmont interrupted Dawson's speech. "I don't care whether you have them hanging from the sails as long as my men can't see them, and they remain alive."

"Do you have something you're hiding?" cut Elizabeth sharply, a comment she had not intended to release. Belmont raised his hand and backhanded her hard before she could defend herself, sending her sprawling to the deck, blooding dripping from her nose and mouth.

"Be quiet, whore. I want none of your smart comments," he snarled viciously. "Take them now, Dawson."

"Of course, Commodore," he answered, along with a mocking bow. He jerked his head, and four men appeared at his side. "Take them down to the brig, and untie this one," he kicked Clarissa in the shoulder. As ordered, the men snatched both of them and dragged them to the other ship. Glancing back over her shoulder, Elizabeth saw Belmont, standing there like he ruled the world, with the dark clouds threatening storm behind him. She gave him one last piercing glare before she was shoved below deck of the _Midas_ along with poor Clarissa. A terrible feeling swept over her that she would not be seeing daylight for a very long time now, and glancing upward, she soaked in the last rays of the setting sun.


	18. DoubleCrossing Knave

AN: This is one of my favorite chapters so far, and I hope it is keeping in character with Jack and Barbossa. Regardless, I hope you all enjoy this!

* * *

"Ship spotted on horizon!" yelped the fellow in the crow's nest. Following where the man was pointing, I saw a large, black ship coming toward us. Though at first glance it appeared plain, the ship seemed to emit a certain elegance and grace the longer I stared at it.

"That's the _Pearl_," grinned Jack, who had spotted it as well.

"I guessed as much." My voice was emotionless and controlled, but inside, I was bursting with glee and anxiety.

Now was the moment. When finally, after years, I would be able to see Ella again. Had she changed as much as I had? Was she still as spirited as I had always remembered her as? My stomach was having butterflies flitter around in it, but this time it was from excitement. Soon.

As I smiled out toward the ship, a strange, fleeting thought past my mind. _How_ was Jack going to get Barbossa to hand over the _Pearl_? Frowning slightly, I grasped onto the idea and pondered it for a moment. From what I understood, Barbossa was no fool, nor one who commonly made bargains. But then I remembered the conversation I had overheard in Tortuga, one I hadn't bothered to think about since then…

"There she is," sighed Jack contently. "Nothing more than a little bit of exchange, and she'll be mine again." He smiled fondly out to the sea, eye never wavering from his ship.

"You mean the leverage?" I asked abruptly. I hadn't exactly meant the comment to come tumbling out as it had; unfortunetely, this "leverage" was what I had been thinking about at the exact moment he had made his comment.

Jack stiffened, smile gone, an alert and sharp expression replacing it. "Well, well, it looks like we have a spy in our mists." He glanced out of the corner of his eyes coyly, drumming his fingers on the railing. The relaxed feeling had disappeared, and was now replaced with a tense, forboding tone. Something was not right; I had no idea what was wrong.

"Spy isn't exactly what I would call it," I answered smoothly, but somewhat softly, for inside, I was freezing up, worry and concern peeking out. The way Jack was acting, reacting, talking; all of it was not the Jack I had been traveling with for the past two weeks.

"Indeed." Jack produced his spyglass and gave the appearance of watching the ship sail closer, though I could feel his gaze studying me. "How much of the conversation did you hear?"

I gripped the railing slightly. If I told the truth, it would probably be safer…however, how far would that get me? I would be in the same position as before. "All of it," I lied. It was a far reach, to lie, but I was hoping that Jack might let something slip, something he would think I already knew.

"Well, I suppose the information is nothing...surprising to you," he whispered so only we could hear each other. "Though, you're a bright lass. I'm surprised you haven't figured out what the leverage is by now."

Nothing new? What did he know, that I already knew? The whole thing was a gigantic riddle, and it was making my head hurt. I turned my face slightly to look at Jack. His head was also turned a small degree, staring at me, waiting for something to happen. Waiting for me to react in some fashion. Most likely in anger or fright, now that I really considered it, though the idea was strange to me. What could make me angry, or frightened, for that matter?

Barbossa had one of the keys to the Fountain of Youth, which Ella owned, or was keeping safe for the Commodore. Jack had said before looking for the _Black Pearl_, he had been searching for the Fountain of Youth as well, and found out he was missing a key and a map, the things that I had.

He knew.

Somehow, Jack had found out I had the key and map. That was the information.

But it wasn't information Jack had, it was leverage, something he had been very specific about.

I was the leverage.

The realization hit like a thunderbolt, and my first thought after was how could I be so stupid not to notice what was really going on. Now, stepping back from the situation, everything was so obvious. Why Jack had begged _me_ to help him rescue the _Pearl_, why _he_ had come to _my_ rescue that night.

I stepped back from the railing, shaking visibly. But Jack was faster. As soon as I left his side, he grabbed my arm and pointed the pistol to my chest. This time, the threat was for real, and I was truly terrified.

"Sorry, luv," said Jack solemnly. "But you did promise…anything to get the _Pearl_ back…"

"You bastard," I hissed. The fright was quickly replaced by a extremely hurt, angered feeling. I wanted nothing more than to punch him in the jaw again (preferably break it), but he was holding my right arm tightly.

Instead, I spat in his face, hitting him squarely on the left cheek. He blinked, then brought his arm up slowly to wipe it off, looking at me the whole time. I couldn't tell what he was thinking; his eyes were too hard to read.

"Gibbs," he yelled. "I'm going to need some rope."

"Oh no you don't!" I ordered, panic rising, dread seeping through my bones, catching the full attention of the crew. "Don't you dare--" Jack hand stopped my mouth, pressing my head to his chest. I struggled, jabbing him, twisting for all that I was worth.

"Hurry!" he called out painfully.

I saw Gibbs coming guiltily with some rope, with at least five men trailing behind curiously. Somehow, the seven of them were able to slip the rope around my body and fasten it around me securely, restricting me to the movement of a snake.

I knew all was lost at that point. The _Pearl_ was practically on top of us now, with crew members running around, shouting orders on both sides, so I stopped moving and allowed myself to be led to where a plank was being prepared to be thrown, standing stiffly, awaiting my sentence. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, like in the movies. Except this wasn't a movie. This was real, just like every part of my wretched existance I had been living for the past four years.

I could not believe what was happening was reality; but everything that was happening felt strikingly real. The only comparision I could think of was Alice in Wonderland. But Alice was able to wake up from her dream, I wasn't.

Jack's eyes were on me, I could feel them boring into my skin, watching my reactions. I refused to so much as turn my head in his direction, only looking toward the ebony ship in front of me, hurt and betrayal overpowering me, causing a few tears to escape. I was not a hateful person. Almost always I would be able to find an ounce of good in anyone I met, no matter the situation. But I couldn't make myself think this way for Jack, not now. I absolutely hated this man.

* * *

"Cap'n, it looks like Jack Sparrow," said Pintel, leaning over the railing precociously. 

"As I see," growled Barbossa. "Ready the cannons. There will no doubt be a fight."

"Who is Jack?" asked Ella, approaching toward the two men. "And why will we be fighting with him?"

"Get back below deck," ordered Barbossa without turning around. "This does not concern you."

"No. I want to know what is going on."

Barbossa tilted his head back toward Ella, a glare on his face, ready to spit out something foul to get her to leave, but Pintel interrupted the argument.

"That's odd. Jack had a lady with him, except, she's all tied up. Pretty little thing."

All three came up to the railing to see what Pintel was talking about, and Ella's heart came up into her throat.

The girl was tall, dark brown hair blowing rebelliously in the wind, squinting at the glare of the sun. For a moment, Ella thought she must be having an illusion, until their eyes met. The girls eyes became wide, bright dark blue eyes that had always seemed to know everything.

Ella nearly fainted from the shock, but managed to keep herself standing. She wanted to shout for lady, but then she saw the ropes that bound her.

So she screamed.

* * *

"Ella!" I yelled, after hearing the ear splitting sound emit from her mouth. "ELLA!"

"Shush up, yeh little twit," snarled a burly crew member next to me, grabbing me around the waist and pulling me against him. "Or I just might hav'te make yeh." A terrible chuckle escaped his decaying mouth as he licked his lips quickly. I gagged, and nearly hurled.

The click of a pistol was heard behind my head. "Let her go," growled Jack menacingly. "Or she will be the last thing you ever see."

The pirate released me grudgingly, but not before pinching me on the arm, leaving me to stand there numbly, not believing anything I was seeing or hearing.

"Jack Sparrow!" called out a scratchy voice from across the gap. "What in the world do you think you are doing?" A great, grimy man was against the railing of the _Pearl_, next to whom stood Ella, with hands over her mouth, eyes never leaving me.

"Getting my ship back!" responded Jack cheerily.

"And what makes you think I would let you do that?"

Jack grabbed my shoulder and pulled me over to him, glancing down shiftily. "She does! I have a bargain to strike, savvy?"

The news seemed to surprise Barbossa, at least, that was who I assumed he was. He stroked his wispy beard before smiling, revealing a row of rotting teeth. "Well then, let's hear it. Men, lower the plank!"

A gangplank was lowered, and Jack, to my surprise, lifted me up over his head and swung me onto his shoulders. "This is utterly humiliating!" I screamed in protest, the shock of it getting rid of the horrid feelings before. "Put me down! Put me down! You have no right to _look_ at me, let alone treat me like this!" I could feel myself heading toward hysterics, so I took two deep breaths, trying to compose myself.

Jack didn't respond. Instead, he slapped my upper thighs smartly to make me shut up. Of course, this only made me want to scream louder, though I didn't, and I didn't dare struggle, for fear of tumbling into the sea below.

Once we were on the opposite deck he let me down gently, and dragged me over to Barbossa, who was holding a pistol out in front of him. "Hello, old mate," he greeted flashing his famous smile, one that I dearly wanted to punch out, and producing a pistol of his own and pointing it toward Barbossa.

Barbossa opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by Ella, who pushed her way to the front. "Finn? You...you're…_alive_." Ella held her mouth, tears dripping down her face, shaking. I thought she was going to faint, and so did a balding man next to her, who quickly put his arms around her in support before she crashed to the deck.

I was about to say something, but a great whooshing sound was heard from behind, and a loud crash of wood hitting water. The four of us turned around to see…a ship. A ship that apparently had just come out of the water. Oddly enough, I was not terribly surprised at this, though it was rather odd. Instead it all seemed rather familiar…like from a story I had heard…

"Oh no," grumbled Barbossa as he looked at the ship. "Not him. Not now."

Jack leaned back to get a better view, squinting in the glare of the sun. "Is that…who I think it is?"

Suddenly, a man appeared out of thin air right beside Jack, causing the pirate to jump violently, which he tried to supress quickly. He was young, handsome, and looking awfully confused, his eyes looking between Barbossa, Jack, Ella, and myself suspiciously. I could feel myself blush when his eyes rested on me, butterflies flying around in my stomach again.

"Jack? What are you doing here? Who is this?" His voice was low and musical, a strong contrast to Jack slurred rougish tone.

"I don't suppose you have the key?" asked Barbossa, lowering his gun slightly. He was addressing the young man.

"It wasn't there, not even a body. Ella, I'm not sure what to say…" the man glanced over at me again curiously. Silence filled the air, awkward and heavy.

"You were looking for a key?" I blurted out. "Why?"

"_You_ were looking for the key?" interjected Jack, frowning slightly. "You're already immortal, Will. Let the rest of us have a chance."

"What?" asked Will.

And that's when it clicked in my mind: the ship, the name…

"You're William Turner?" I gasped.

"Yes. Who are you?"

"Winifred Delaney. I know your wife."

William blinked while he processed the information, in which he then gaped openly before stammering, "_You_ know Elizabeth? Wait, did you say you were _Winifred Delaney_?"

"_You're_ Winifred?" asked Barbossa. "You aren't dead though!"

"Of course she's not dead!" said Jack, patting me on the shoulder. "Why would dear Finn be dead?"

"_She_ said that she drowned at sea," explained Barbossa, pointing at Ella first, then me.

"That explains why there wasn't a body," mused Will to himself.

"But why were you looking for the key?" asked Jack again.

"I asked him to," said Barbossa.

"Well, she has the key," answered Jack, wrapping his arms around my waist protectively, still holding the pistol.

"Don't touch me," I seethed.

"You have the key?" asked Barbossa, raising an eyebrow.

"She has the key," said Jack again before I could say anything.

"So you want the _Pearl_ in exchange for her?"

There was absolute silence at the question. Will was staring at Jack like he had suddenly sprouted horns (at least that's what I was imagining him with), Ella, who had been silent for a change, gasped, and Jack was looking suddenly very uncomfortable. "That was the idea."

"You lying lout!" I hissed. The hurt, the pain, the betrayal were gushing out of me, causing my mouth to be looser than usual. "Tricking me into rescuing your rotting ship! You said you always kept your blasted promises, but it was just an act. A lying, villainous, cowardly act!"

"Oh yes," said Jack, covering my mouth. "I almost forgot. I get the other girl, Ella." He let his hand fall. "There, my word is kept. Happy?"

"NO!"

"Well, Barbossa?" Sparrow inquired, ignoring my response, and my futile struggles. "Agreed?"

Barbossa surveyed the frigate we had come on, then looked back at me. Then he stashed his gun away and put his hand out, which Sparrow took and shook. "Agreed."

"NO!" shrieked Ella. "FINN!" Gibbs, who had come up during our exchange, grabbed her and stopped her from hurling herself toward me.

"You impertinent, surly, scut!" I hissed at Jack.

He grabbed my shoulder and faced me before Barbossa could take me away. "Listen, luv, I'm sorry. I really don't want--"

"Don't even start," I warned. "I've had enough of your lies. You…you…artless… dog-hearted, miscreant!" Tears were brimming on the rims of my eyes, and I bit my lip, trying to stop them from falling.

Barbossa snatched my wrists roughly, pulling me behind him. Ella was still struggling against Gibbs, fighting like a wildcat, Will was standing there, looking aghast, and Jack…I had to blink to make sure what I saw was real. His face was tensed up, hand in fists, and he seemed to be looking after us with troubled eyes, as if he was second guessing his decision.

_"I don't let valuable items slip through my hands…"_

Blasted, he certainly hadn't been talking about me then. He was sad because he was letting the key and map go. All the fright, anger, hatred, and suffering came pouring out with my sobs and struggles at this horrid realization. "You mangled, flea-bitten, urchin!" I screamed at him, fighting against Barbossa. "You, you…whoreson! You…vulgar, double-crossing _knave_!"

"Oh, and one more thing, Jack," added Barbossa above my cursing. "You try to follow us, she dies."

I could visibly see Jack cringe at the statement, but thought nothing of it as I was led away by Barbossa, kicking and screaming, wanting nothing more than to be back at home with Ella again.


	19. Meeting Ella

AN: Wow, I am getting better at updating quicker

Not much, but a little

Anyways, an amazing thing happened, and inspiration struck me in the form of another story. So I will be focusing much of my effort getting that one off the ground. Luckily, I have the next five chapters written for this story, and heavy editing is the only thing preventing me from sharing them to the public. Too bad for you.

But, do not fear, I will not abandon this story if I can help it, though I must admit, I am very excited for this new one I am writing, so make sure to check it out and tell me what you think.

Now that I am done with my long and dreary explanation of nothing in particular, here is the next chapter, one that I really enjoyed writing. You all get to see a whole new side to Ella.

As usual, enjoy.

* * *

Jack looked after Finn as Barbossa dragged her onto the frigate, the insults still echoing in his ears. For the first time in a long while, he was feeling…regret. No, Jack Sparrow didn't feel regret, not after regaining his beloved _Pearl_. Shaking his head in frustration, he turned toward Gibbs who held Ella still, Finn's shouts carrying across the gap between the ships. He cringed, and instead of talking to Gibbs like planned, Jack strutted off to his wonderful cabin. 

Soon, the crews were once again switched, and the _Pearl_ was…staying put. Jack had wanted the _Flying Fortune_ to be well away before he put his master plan into action. Flipping open his compass, he saw with delight it was no longer spinning mercilessly like it had been for the past two weeks. It was now pointed toward…the direction Barbossa had gone. Jack shook it again, but the pointer stayed put.

Now that couldn't be right. It should be pointing toward the key and compass, back in Port Royal. He flipped the compass shut and threw it on the table. Stupid thing was becoming unreliable.

A definite knock was heard at the door. "Enter," sighed Jack, leaning back in his chair comfortably.

Gibbs entered, and was rudely shoved aside by none other than Ella. Jack surveyed her thoughtfully, noticing the glare she was giving him. She looked nothing like Finn did, almost complete opposites, in fact. Finn had been tall and, in a small way, elegant, while this Ella was short and forceful. Her caramel hair was a tangled mess, no doubt due to the treatment she had received by Barbossa's hand, and her brown eyes glowered at him bluntly. He knew he was in for a thrashing, and unlike Finn, he had a feeling this was going to be a lot more harsh. At least for his ears.

"You bastard!"

"I think," interrupted Jack, "that Finn has already bashed me enough with names and insults that we can skip over that part. My ego can only take so much."

Ella glared and stamped her foot hard, with a small scream emitting from her mouth, causing both Gibbs and Jack to duck slightly. "You sold my best friend for a ship! You are a thoughtless criminal!"

"I _am_ a pirate…"

"I don't care! I didn't think anyone could be so heartless as to do that, but you are! I _hate_ you!" Ella hit both fists on his table for effect, and Jack curled up defensively in his chair.

"Easy on the table, darling, that was a pain to acquire…"

"Don't patronize me!" she hissed.

"That wasn't patronizing…" Jack tried to explain, but Ella cut him off again.

"I don't want to even hear you speak! You disgust me! I want you to go back and take Finn back!"

"That's not really an option…"

"I don't care! I demand that you do it!"

"You obviously weren't listening," said Jack in a loud voice. "Barbossa is going kill her if we follow. Now, you wouldn't want your dear friend to meet her end on your account, hmm?"

Ella marched over to the side of the chair and stuck her finger in his face threateningly. "You created this mess. Fix it. If you don't, I will personally skin you alive."

"Calm down, luv," begged Jack, smiling a little, though it wasn't voluntary. It was more of a tactic of self-preservation, used on countless women, and always worked.

"Don't you dare call me 'luv.' My name is Ella, not some stupid nickname you made up for me!"

So maybe it didn't work on _this_ women...or Finn for that matter, but he couldn't think about that now.

"Alright!" Jack exclaimed. "Ella. If you would just sit down calmly and be quiet and stop yelling at me--"

"Give me one good reason," she responded, raising her hand to slap him.

"Because I have a plan! Sit…please?"

Ella let out a slow breath, but did as requested. Gibbs stood to the side of her uncertainly, though keeping a reasonable distance away incase of a sudden outburst.

"Well?" she asked skeptically.

"Okay," began Jack slowly. "As I understand it, you have a key of some sorts."

"Not any more," Ella responded sharply. "And how would you know?"

"Let's say I have a certain talent for hearing things I'm not suppose to."

"Eavesdropping, you mean."

"To put it bluntly, yes. Now, as you are aware, Miss Delaney has a key and oversized pocket watch that are also of great importance."

"They go to the Fountain of Youth. Barbossa already explained everything to me, so cut to the chase and tell me what this amazing plan is."

Jack, a little irked that this annoying girl just stole his thunder, opened his compass to take a quick peek. It was still pointing toward Barbossa… "We are going to follow Barbossa to where I assume to be Port Royal. Finn most likely does not have the key or map with her, seeing as she came with me in her nightdress." Ella gasped appropriately at the comment, but Jack ignored her. "When they go to retrieve the items, I will go, take Finn with the items, and we will go find the Fountain of Youth. Savvy?"

Ella was still staring daggers at him. "You broke your word to Finn. Why in the world should I believe you?"

"I promised to rescue you in exchange that she help me by any means necessary to regain my ship. We were both good to our word, though she did seem to prove…reluctant."

The two kept eye contact icily, until Ella stood up viciously. "Did I mention how much I hate you?"

"Once or twice already."

"Let me remind you." She grabbed a book that was sitting on he table, brought it up, and before Jack could register what was happening, lugged it at his face, smacking him square in the jaw. Gibbs let out a sound of pity as Jack fell to the floor, clutching his jaw. "Second time in a few days he was hit there."

"When was the first?"

"Miss Finn punched him."

Ella raised her eyebrows. "_Finn_ punched him?" She turned to Jack, who had risen to his knees painfully. "Well, I can't remember a time when she has lost her temper in public. Congratulations, Captain, though I suppose, if it was _she_ who lost it, then you most definitely deserved it."

"Maybe," Jack agreed with a muffled voice. "She's an interesting lass, I must say."

"Good-bye," Ella said, then stormed out defiantly, with Gibbs following behind, saying that he could show her to her cabin.

Jack got back onto the chair, touching his wound tenderly. Then he opened his compass again, shaking it to make sure it was working. Still pointing toward Barbossa, or more specifically, though he grudgingly admitted it, Finn.

Well, after meeting Ella, he wasn't surprised that what he wanted most at the moment was Finn. How the two girls became friends, he would never understand. This…little terror that he had on board now was nothing but a pain to deal with, though he had to give her credit for not putting up with nonsense and rude treatment. He supposed the saying opposites attract had some truth to it, after being able to encounter the two ladies.

What he wouldn't give to have had that same conversation with Finn. While she probably would have stormed in with the same amount of energy, she would have demanded (in a decent tone of voice, of course) what in the world he had just done. He would have smiled, she would have blushed, but somehow kept her composure, and tell him in a sharp voice to get to the point and start explaining. No threats, no insults hurled; she really didn't need them. He had a feeling she was used to being listened to, and obeyed without question. He would have then explained his plan, she would have listened, though certainly not looking at all pleased during the time. She would then tell him that his plan would not work, and give him a better idea, that in truth, might be more effective. But he wouldn't let her know that, and instead would remind her that he was captain, and because he knew she didn't like arguing, she would stand up, glare at him, then march out.

She, unlike her friend, seemed to have a natural sense of grace and composure…something Jack was not familiar with, and frankly, was not sure how to handle. He had managed it, obviously, but he wasn't sure _how_. When he thought that Finn was wrapped around his finger, she would surprise him by making some smart remark or under mind him in some way. Unlike Ella, who was blunt and obvious, Finn was a…riddle. He really wasn't sure what she was.

And now that he thought about it, he really wanted to know.

"No, no, no…" he muttered it himself. "Jack, ol' boy, you can't be doing this right now. She really isn't that important, or that interesting."

But their conversation from a few weeks ago floated back. She had said she cared about him. Or, more specifically, what happened to him.

She didn't really care, that was just an answer to make him feel better.

Though she didn't seem like the type to lie.

"Well, I don't care about her," Jack said to himself confidently.

Then why was he trying to get Finn back?


	20. Meeting Barbossa

AN: Hmmm...I don't really have any comments for this chapter. It's a little short, but to the point and such.

Thanks to tiddlywinx for the review, I've never been sure which way to spell through. It's only one problem of many, but at least I know now.

Once again, enjoy.

* * *

As soon as we reached the _Flying Fortune_, I was roughly thrown into the captain's quarters by Barbossa, and after locking the door, he went away to set the ship off.

My mind was numb and spinning. The only thought I could coherently remember was that at least Ella was reasonably safe. At least she wasn't with Barbossa anymore.

Thinking about her was suddenly very painful, and tears began to fall, at first a few at a time, then a constant stream. They were tears of heartache and grief; Oh! how I wanted to be with Ella again, to talk with her, laugh with her, just sit with her. And I was so close, so close…if it hadn't been for that rotten, drunken, whore of a man Jack Sparrow.

I cried harder, this time tears of hate and vengeance, something I rarely ever felt. How could he betray me like that? True, I never really trusted him, but I didn't think he was capable of this? And I had felt something for him; not pity, not sympathy, but something so much deeper that I refused to recognize it. It made me hurt, hurt so bad that I could barely breath. The tears were warm and wet on my cheeks, falling onto my ragged shirt in pools. I wanted to go back to Port Royal, go back to Arielle and Isabella, Elizabeth…I just wanted to be safe again. Most of all I wanted Ella back, but I couldn't think of her, not right now.

My emotions were beginning to drain away with my tears. I barely ever cried in pity of myself, and I hated doing it. Soon I was nothing more than a shaking heap in the corner, shivering and trembling in anxiety and weariness. Why me? Why _Jack_?

A key was heard in the lock, and Barbossa lumbered through triumphantly, smiling maliciously. "So you are Winifred Delaney. How wonderful to make your acquaintance."

I glared back silently, curling defensively into my corner. I hadn't trusted Jack before, but I was absolutely frightened of this man and what he might be capable of.

"Not a very talkative sort, are you?" He laughed quietly to himself. "A much better change after your friend, I must say. She was very…vocal, unfortunately."

"What did you do to her?" I asked in a grainy whisper.

"Nothing at all, except put her in the brig. No, she was very safe here, don't you fret."

"And…me?"

"I assure that I will not lay one finger on you for the duration of our trip, captain's word. Can't say the same for my crew though," said Barbossa thoughtfully. "Your friend was able to throw them off, hopefully you can do the same."

I could feel myself paling quickly at the statement. I had no doubt that Ella was able to fend the men off successfully, but I wasn't nearly as tough as her. Seeing my expression, Barbossa laughed louder. "Don't worry, Miss Delaney, the crew knows better than to tarnish valuable things. And at the moment, you are very valuable."

I didn't respond. So this man intended to use me as the means to get to this cursed Fountain. As I thought about it, suddenly one thing didn't make sense. Jack was looking for the Fountain, and had said, after regaining his ship, he would start searching again. But Barbossa had everything Jack needed with him. Would that mean Jack would follow behind, even with the threat on my life? Biting my lip, I considered this idea. Jack didn't necessarily need _me_ to find the Fountain of Youth, but he did need my map and key. Which meant my life was worth absolutely nothing in his eyes.

He would follow.

"Would you like to have those ropes off?"

I snapped out of my thoughts and nodded slightly. Barbossa came over and cut them loose and helped me up. "Thank you," I mumbled.

"Ah, manners, what a pleasant surprise," said Barbossa. "You must be accustomed to proper company."

"In a manner of speaking." I looked down at my clothes, which were torn and stained with dirt and sweat. The past few weeks had not been kind to them.

"I see you could use some new garments. A dress perhaps?" suggested Barbossa, pulling a dark green one from a trunk.

"I…yes, thank you." I took the dress from him suspiciously and turned around, looking for somewhere private to change.

"There," he offered, pointing to a door. I went into the room, which was barely bigger than a closet, and stripped off my rags and donned the dress, which actually fit very well. Coming back out, I sat myself down in a chair next to the table, across from Barbossa, who was now munching on a slice of bread. "Something to eat?"

"No, thank you," I said stiffly.

Barbossa finished his slice and fished around in his pocket to produce a small ruby key. "Do you know what this is?"

"Ella's key." I was surprised at how small it was, and even more surprised that the ruby there matched the one on my pocket watch.

"Yes, good. I don't suppose Jack has explained the importance of the objects you own?"

"No, but I already knew."

"Excellent. That will make this conversation that much easier. Now," Barbossa stood up, towering over my rigid figure, "why don't you give me your items?" He reached his hand out expectantly, the yellow nails sticking out grotesquely.

I didn't want to give them to him, partly because that would mean I would have to strip down to retrieve them from my chemise, but mostly that I wasn't sure what was going to happen to me afterward. What I needed to figure out was how to get somewhere safe before handing over the key and map. What I needed to do was find where the Commodore was.

And he was looking for Barbossa. Chances were, he had lost the trail, which meant only one thing. The Commodore was going back to Port Royal.

"I don't have them," I said evenly.

"What?" The question sounded more like a snarl than a word, and Barbossa leaned over the table fiercely, anger spiting from his eyes.

"I don't have them with me," I said, my voice becoming softer. "They aren't with me."

"Why not?"

"I wasn't entirely dressed when Jack…took me away. I was in my nightdress." I knew what Barbossa was thinking at the comment, and I blushed hard as he smiled wickedly. "It's not what it sounds like. Pirates were attacking Port Royal, and it was in the middle of the night."

"Of course. Port Royal you say? So I can assume that is where the map and key are?"

"Yes."

Barbossa walked away from the table and stopped at the door. "We will be sailing toward Port Royal then. I suggest you don't try and escape."

"We're in the middle of the ocean. Where do I have to go?"

"I'm glad you realize that." He opened the door, but before going out, turned to me one last time. "And for your sake, I hope you aren't lying." Cackling loudly, he exited, leaving me there white as a sheet and scared out of skin. But I needed to keep my wits about me if I were to get out of this alive, so I took a deep breath and stood up, ready to meet anything that came my way.


	21. Those Blue Eyes

AN: I know I ought to be doing homework and such, but the story has been calling to me. So I am writing and updating, despite the threat on my grades. Maybe I should just drop school and write for the rest of my life...no, bad idea. Ha ha...I need more sleep.

Anyway, I loved writing this chapter, so I hope that, as always, enjoy.

* * *

It was a cloudy night, and windy. The perfect night for escape, in fact.

Richard was creeping along the deck slowly, covering a flickering lantern unsuccessfully while attempting to make out the long boats. The Commodore had long turned around to go to Port Royal, forgetting about Barbossa altogether. The thought of being able to kidnap Winnie seemed to be more tempting than rescuing Ella, though he was planning to stop for a week to re-supply and make repairs on the ship, for they had run into a nasty storm the night before. The Commodore was aware that Winnie was gone from Port Royal, but he seemed to hope for information there, something Richard didn't believe he would get.

Whatever the case, Richard intended to get off the _Hildegard_ as quickly as possible. He was not going to become a criminal, even if it meant deserting the army, and he was going to find Ella and rescue her, then proceed to hide her from Belmont. There was no chance that he was going to let _him_ come anywhere near her. Not now that he knew who Belmont really was.

He would have tried and bring Elizabeth and Clarissa along, but seeing as they were with Dawson, it would have been to risky too attempt a rescue. It was too bad; Elizabeth would have been useful, helping him manage the longboat and finding their way thru the Caribbean waters. Clarissa…well, he would have just felt bad leaving her there. She seemed to helpless, it would have been cruel not to bring her.

Though, he had to admit, there would be definite advantages to traveling alone. He only needed to bring minimal amount of food and water, and it would be less weight to row across the waves. His man power combined with his makeshift sail would hopefully push him out of sight by daybreak.

After lowering the longboat softly into the water with a small splash, Richard climbed down rapidly, praying no one had been awake enough to hear the sound, and that no one would be looking for him. It was his shift for watch, and if he didn't wake up the next fellow, he hoped that it would give him enough time to escape.

He began to row, slowly as to not disturb the water too much, then quicker to gain speed. The moon was peeking out of the clouds shyly, casting faint rays upon him and the ever disappearing _Hildegard_. Slowly but surely, as the sun rose gloriously out of the horizon, the boat became nothing more than a small speck, then nothing at all.

So, now he was alone, and it was an odd feeling indeed. He wasn't scared necessarily, though there was a feeling of emptiness in the vast sparkling blue. Richard sighed, wiped his sweaty brow, bent over, and started rowing again for a long time.

* * *

Three days had passed, all sweltering, all ruthlessly sunny, all cloudless. Richard's food supply had run out the day before, and his water supply was rapidly vanishing. He had expected to run into a ship quicker than this, for it was a well traveled route, but to no avail. If only he had packed more supplies…but hoping would do no good right now. He was fading slowly, there really wasn't much left to hope.

* * *

After their first meeting, Jack and Ella had more or less stayed a respectful distance away from each other. Ella did not think Jack worthy of to so much as stand in her shadow, and Jack really did not want his eyes clawed out.

After the first few days, Ella did try to be a little more friendly to the rest of the crew. Gibbs had been more or less pleasant, and was easy to talk to. Apparently, he had spent much of his time with Finn when she had been with them, and they would talk about her every now and then. For Ella, this was a strange thing, for she had not had anyone to talk to about her best friend for four years, and to realize she was actually, truly alive was still quite a shock. There was another fellow, Cotton, who couldn't speak, but always smiled when he saw her, and kept very good company.

The rest of the crew, while decent enough compared to Barbossa's, still caused Ella a great deal of uneasiness. They were stare at her as she walked across the deck, or smile suggestively every now and then. Many times she found herself wishing Richard were there.

Jack, after seeing that Ella was not always a ticking time grenade, began to realize why Finn had become friends with this young lady. Except for him, she was very civil toward everyone on the ship, and was generally talking like there was no tomorrow to anyone who would listen. As long as she was not angry at you, she appeared to be a very good friend.

Once or twice Jack had tried to start up a conversation, after all, this was a _women_, and he couldn't very well ignore her when she was on _his_ ship, but all he had been given was the cold shoulder. At least Finn would have had the decency to say _something_.

Bugger, his thoughts always seemed to wander to Finn these days. It wasn't like he actually _cared_ about her. He was Captain Jack Sparrow! Those types of things never happened to _him_! But then why did his compass keep pointing toward Barbossa? Why wasn't it pointing toward the map?

His conclusion was that she knew where the map and key were, so she was the way to them, meaning she was the one he wanted. It all made great sense in the end, and Jack was at ease, most of the time.

Though he really didn't want to admit it, he missed Finn quite a bit. He wasn't even sure why. She had never shown any interest in him, which was actually quite strange, he thought. She never seemed to be angry, except for those few times, when he most certainly deserved to be slapped. She always seemed to be thinking, or dreaming. A riddle indeed.

No, no, not a riddle, just another confusing women who he never needed to see again. Finn really didn't mater that much, she was just the way to the treasure. But then why had he felt so horrible when he had handed her over to Barbossa?

Jack shook his head. This was ridiculous. Finn was just another women, and that was that. He had bigger things to worry about, like how he was going to get the map and key. He wandered out of his cabin onto the deck, whistling a sea chantey. The days of late had been sunny, without much wind, though nothing like he had encountered a few weeks ago. It wasn't affecting the speed of the _Pearl_ too much, so he had nothing to worry about.

"Captain, something has been spotted on the horizon!" shouted the man from the crow's nest. "It looks like a…boat!"

Jack opened his spyglass lazily, excepting to see some merchant ship that was ripe for the picking, only to see a longboat drifting along. "That's…strange," he murmured, mostly to himself.

"What's strange?" snapped Ella, coming up next to time.

"Deciding to finally speak with me?"

"Temporarily, if you don't act like a--"

"I understand," he interrupted, not really wanting to be insulted, especially after Finn's speech a week or so ago, which was still ringing in his ears.

"Well?"

"There is a longboat out there, in open ocean."

"Now, that is strange," said Gibbs, who had come up next to him. "What do you reckon happened? Ship wrecked?"

"Most likely," answered Jack. "I can't tell if there is anyone in there though. Men! Turn her around toward that boat!" he yelled, and the men began scrambling to do as ordered.

"What are you going to do?" asked Ella, more intrigued than not.

"Save the poor devil, of course," said Jack. "It is one of the unspoken rules of the sea. You never know when you yourself might be in the same situation, where you are begging to be saved. It is a rather nasty predicament, I must say."

"You've been stranded?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes." Over his shoulder, Gibbs was mouthing the word 'marooned' to Ella, causing her to suppress a smile. Jack rolled his eyes and made his way to the helm grandly, caressing the wood on his way up. He was still ecstatic that the _Pearl_ was his again.

* * *

Ella squinted against the bright rays, trying to make out who was in the boat. He was coming closer, rowing, in fact, though, he appeared to be going at a snails pace. She wondered if the fellow had even noticed the ship that was coming to rescue him.

"From the looks of it, the devil's alive," commented Gibbs, who was watching as well.

"Yes. I feel so bad for him. Though, I wonder what would have caused him to be out here."

"Might have been thrown over in a storm. Happens every now and then."

"And the longboat?"

Gibbs frowned, stumped at Ella's question. Shrugging, he went to join Jack at the helm, leaving Ella to stare alone. She could see more of the features now, if she looked long enough. The man's hair was blonde, and he appeared an average height, slim but sturdy. He looked an awful lot like Richard…

And then she noticed the clothes he was wearing. They were exactly like the one's the navy would wear. Could it be…?

"Richard?" Ella yelled over the railing, hoping the man would hear. Above her, she could hear Jack scolding her, but she paid no mind. "Richard?"

The man looked up, and jumped at the sight of the gigantic vessel that was coming toward him. Now he was close enough that Ella could see facial characteristics.

It was Richard.

"Richard!" she screamed again, louder and more frantic this time.

"Ella?" The voice was faint, but flabbergasted. "Ella, is that you?

"Yes!"

"Shush there, luv," commanded Jack. "Let the man come aboard. Men, throw him down some rope!" The orders were carried out, and soon Richard flopped up onto the deck, weary and dehydrated.

"Richard! Someone, get him water!" cried out Ella, kneeling down to cradle his head.

"Ella? What in the world are you…?"

"Shh, don't talk right now. You need rest. How long have you been out there?"

"You just told him not to talk," said Jack pointedly. "One of you men, get over here and get this fellow to the sick bay. Hurry!"

"I'm going too," announced Ella as Richard was lifted up. Jack was about to disagree, but quickly thought better at the look from her face.

"Do as you wish, Miss Bronte. I have obviously never stopped you before."

Ella, smiling slightly, followed to where Richard was being placed softly and sat next to his now sleeping form, relief flooding her. Richard was here. How lucky could one girl get?

* * *

It was the next day when Richard finally woke from his slumber. Ella had fallen asleep as well, never leaving his side, something Jack noted with an increasing interest.

"Why do you suppose she stays down there?" he asked Gibbs when he had passed by, only to see her asleep as well.

"I'd imagine it is because she loves him," Gibbs answered matter of factly. "She was sure excited when she realized who he was."

"Yes, but she doesn't have to stay down _there_, in the sick bay. Ella has a cabin."

"You seem surprised," Gibbs said, raising his eyebrow. "It's not that unusual, this type of devotion."

Jack turned and peeked back into the room curiously. Ella's head was resting on Richard's chest, and moving up and down with it. Both looked completely at peace. "I can't say that I have ever seen it before. Then again, it's not like I am that attached to anyone I know. Easier that way, really."

Gibbs had come up beside him. "I had a fiancé once. She fell ill with scarlet fever two weeks before we were suppose to be married. Stayed right by her side until the last breath." Jack looked down in surprise, only to see tears brimming on the man's eyes. "Worst three days of my life. But if I hadn't been there to see her through it, I don't think I could ever live with myself. It may be easier to live without people caring about you, Jack, but it sure makes life…meaningless. These two are lucky to have each other."

Jack shrugged. "To each his own, I suppose. What do you say to some rum?"

"I think I might take you up on that."

Laughing, the two men went to go retrieve their drinks, but the conversation had made Jack terribly uneasy. The only thing he could seem to think about was: would Finn do the same thing for him? She had said she cared…posh, it didn't matter. She was just another women, after all.

* * *

"Ella? Ella?"

Blinking her eyes, Ella sat up slowly to see Richard's gray eyes watching her sweetly. Smiling, she put her hand on his face. "Hello."

Richard smiled as well, a beautiful smile that showed all the love and relief he had inside of him. "Ella, are you okay? Has Barbossa treated you badly?"

"I'm fine, but Barbossa is gone now."

He looked at her skeptically. "This is the _Black Pearl_. Is it not Barbossa's ship?"

"Not anymore. It is Jack Sparrow's ship now."

"How?"

Ella's eyes darkened, her hands becoming fists. "He traded…a girl for the ship."

"Winnie?"

Ella's eyes changed from anger to astonishment. "How did you…?"

Smiling, Richard explained how he had met Winifred, and that a women called Elizabeth had reported a kidnapping involving Winnie. "So this man, Jack Sparrow, traded her for this ship?"

"Yes. I can't say I think very highly of him, though he did insist he had a plan all along, something I don't exactly believe."

"Well," said Richard, "the action certainly doesn't say much for his character…but I think it might have been lucky for Winnie." Ella raised an eyebrow, a little annoyed Richard had said that. Sighing, he continued. "I have so much to tell you, I don't even know where to begin."

"Just start from the beginning. We have plenty of time."

So he did, starting again from when he had met Winifred, then explaining that the Commodore had heard of Barbossa's attack on Savanna, and they went to go follow him. He then told of the mysterious midnight meetings between him and Captain Dawson, and of the kidnapping of Clarissa, then the explanation that the Commodore had really wanted Winnie, not the governor's daughter. Then came Elizabeth's arrival, and how Belmont put her in the brig, and was now headed toward Port Royal in hope for information on Winnie, and then his escape from the _Hildegard_.

"You forgot to explain how Finn is lucky," reminded Ella.

"As far as anyone on that boat is concerned, Winnie is still with Jack Sparrow. No one in this world except the people here know that Winnie is with Barbossa now, who is no longer on the _Black Pearl_ apparently. In all respects, she is more safe now than she would be here or in Port Royal for that matter."

"Barbossa is no walk in the park to be with. I'm still worried about her."

"I don't blame you. But how has Jack Sparrow been treating you?"

"That's Captain, lad."

Both of them turned around to see Jack leaning casually against the door, smirking. "So, you're a navy officer? Lucky for you that you are acquainted with Miss Bronte, or we of have to tossed you over board."

"You were eavesdropping again!" growled Ella, standing up.

"A terrible habit I must attempt to overcome. Unfortunately, I find it to be a wonderful asset in certain instances, such as this."

"How so?"

Sparrow waltzed over and looked down at Richard for a moment. "Well, to begin with, I now know I am stashing a runaway from the British navy, which means a new crew member for me, seeing as they won't be taking you back anytime soon. Secondly, I also know that I am not the only person looking for dear Finn, something that I can possibly use to my advantage."

Ella stared at him skeptically, still annoyed he had been eavesdropping. "Oh? How is that?"

Jack frowned and put up a finger. "I'll let you know, when I sort out the details and whatnot. Shouldn't be terrible though. After all, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow!"

"And who cares?" challenged Ella.

"A good many people, actually," said Jack triumphantly. "Now, it's Richard, correct? If you're feeling any better, it would be greatly appreciated if you were to help crew my ship. Another hand is always welcome."

"Very well," answered Richard politely. "I will be out soon."

Jack saluted mockingly and exited, humming something, leaving the two alone.

"Richard, I'm so glad you're here."

He smiled softly and put his hand on her cheek gently. "I've missed you, Ella. When I found out that you had been kidnapped…I didn't know what I was going to do. I'm…I'm glad you're safe now. I promise, I won't let anything else happen to you."

Ella gazed into his beautiful gray eyes, peace flooding her. He sat up slowly and moved his hand to her neck, caressing her sweetly. "Have I ever told you that I love you?" he murmured.

Ella's heart about leapt out of her chest with joy. "I think I already knew that," she whispered, bringing her own hand to his face. "But I like hearing you say it to me."

Just like that his lips were on hers, sweet and loving, promising. Ella's heart was soaring with the clouds, and she kissed back softly, if not a little shyly.

"You know, you two can always save that for later tonight."

Ella broke apart to see Jack grinning maliciously, leaning comfortably against the doorway. She opened her mouth a few times, but was in too much shock to spit out a smart remark. Richard recovered first and left his bed slowly, not saying anything, and leaving to help the crew man the ship.

"That was…was…" hissed Ella furiously, livid that her first kiss had to be ruined by this criminal.

"My revenge," finished Jack, "for ignoring me for the past few weeks."

Ella glowered, her brown eyes burning. "You're just jealous."

"Of what? Not having your lips on my own? That can be easily fixed." Grabbing her wrist roughly, Jack pulled Ella toward him until there were a mere inch apart. He had originally planned to actually kiss, just to tease, of course, but suddenly, instead of brown eyes staring heatedly at him, they were a dark, deep blue, not nearly as harsh, but much more entrancing. Surprised at the change, Jack let out a gasp of shock and pulled away swiftly.

Ella, who had been absolutely irate a moment before, blinked, utterly confused now at his abrupt change in mood. Jack stared at her, a look between disgust and fear written on his face. They stayed like that a moment longer before Sparrow turned and walked away without another word.

* * *

_Blue eyes_? Why them? Why _her_? Jack rubbed his temples tiredly, trying to make sense of his thoughts. There was nothing special about Finn. The end. She was just another women. Women were everywhere, and there were easier ones to get than _her_. Finn wasn't especially memorable in the least; she was pretty, not gorgeous, quiet and sensible, not explosive, like her friend. But…

Growling in frustration, he changed directions for the hold to retrieve some rum, something to make him stop _thinking_ about her. As soon as he came to Port Royal, he would drop off Ella, convince Finn to give him the map and key, then sail away, never to see her again. She would be out of his life, and never again would he have to worry about Winifred Delaney.


	22. Missing

AN: Thank you for all of the reviews, they are much appreciated! I'm going to try to do one more update after this, and then there is going to be a long break...there are auditions I need to prepare for...an ACT test to take...and have I mentioned school?

Enough of my whining. Enjoy.

* * *

Aside from the fact that there always seemed to be trouble looming over me like a cloud, the voyage with Barbossa was becoming...pleasant. With the crew keeping their distance and all time to myself, I had little worries, except for escape, but I would think of that when the time came. We were still a ways from Port Royal.

Ella often entered my thoughts, and now that I was alone, I had time to wonder what was happening to her. How were she and Jack getting along? Was she safe? More importantly, what _was_ Jack going to do with her?

Unfortunately, seeing as I was on this ship, I couldn't find the answers.

And it bugged me a little.

Okay, so it bugged me a lot, but I had the sense not to show the frustration to anyone but myself. If I did, it would most likely bring on questions from Barbossa, and the thoughts or answers were not something that I wanted to be sharing with anyone.

And though I really, strongly didn't want to admit it, Jack shared my thoughts as well. Mostly it was thoughts of anger and grief that he had been hardhearted enough to trade me for a ship. A _ship_. I had once said I cared about him, as a friend of course, and very grudingly I thought possibly more; but now, I was wishing he would just disappear off the face of the earth. But I couldn't make myself hate him, I had never really been able to hate anyone. Every now and then, I would dream to myself the what ifs: what if Jack hadn't traded me for the _Pearl_? What if we were searching for the Fountain of Youth now? But as soon as the thoughts entered my head, I worked to push them out. It wasn't time to dream, it was time to think.

Though I wasn't focusing on escape, I was thinking about what to do when I reached Port Royal. I wouldn't be able to get away from Barbossa after docking, so I would be entering the town with him, most likely in the dead of night. What I did need to have happen would be a time frame where I _wouldn't_ be with Barbossa so I could get out the map and key from my chemise. And that meant that at one point during the night, I would have to make a run for it. Something I was not looking forward to.

Finally, the fateful night arrived. As predicted, we were docking at night, maybe two in the morning when the guard at the fort was asleep at their posts. Barbossa had the sense not to actually dock right in Port Royal; instead, they went about two miles away to a cove, almost the same spot where Jack had hidden the sloop, maybe it was the same, I couldn't tell in the pitch black of night. This resulted in an hour of cutting our way through the thick jungle, causing large cuts up my legs, despite my long dress. We arrived on the outskirts of the town, by the baker's shop, exhausted and a little grumpy.

"What now?" I asked innocently, while trying to find an opening for escape.

Barbossa squinted down a dark alley for a few minutes, obviously trying to make up his mind about something. "Where do you live, Miss Delaney?"

I stared down the same alleyway silently, thinking, weighing the consequences of telling the truth. This alleyway, if my memory served me correctly (and my memory rarely failed), led to one of the more traveled streets in Port Royal where vendors were often present, marketing their goods. A great deal of the time, the stands would be kept up during the week days and taken down during the weekends. Today was a Thursday, if I had been keeping track perfectly.

"Well?" prodded Barbossa impatiently.

It was a dangerous gamble, but allowing Barbossa to see I had been lying all along was worse, and probably deadly. In answer, I began walking briskly down the alleyway.

"What do you think you're doing?" he growled. I turned, putting on a haughty air, to see his face darkening in confusion, Pintel, Ragetti (two crew members who had recently been bugging me), and two other men masking his expression.

"Follow me and I'll show you."

This seemed to suffice the five men, and they walked over to where I stood. We came to the end of the alleyway, and I stopped, trying to think clearly. Improvising had never been a talent of mine, but now, it was my only hope of survival.

"And from here?" insisted Barbossa.

"It's hard to find my way in the dark," I explained softly. "Everything looks so different.

It was a pathetic excuse; Barbossa knew it and I knew it. He grabbed my arm roughly and pulled out his pistol and cocked it, pointing it toward the center of my chest. "I suggest you try harder then."

I could feel the blood draining from my face like water from a spout. Trembling and shaking, I nodded, my head spinning in a frenzy, trying to find a way to escape. I couldn't lose my wits now, not when I needed them most, so I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. Barbossa sneered and shoved me to the ground roughly, waiting for me to get up and lead them to my house.

Then I saw it: a sack of flour. It wasn't terribly large, and appeared to only be half full. The baker must have discarded it, for weevils most likely. Right now it was my savior. As I kneeled to stand up, I grabbed the sack, praying that none of the men had seen me do it, for I had fallen in a shadow. Standing, I turned my head slightly, though not facing them completely, and said in a quiet voice, "Very well then. Follow me."

We walked for about 100 ft. until we reached another, smaller alleyway. I glanced down it carelessly, and saw darkness.

This was my chance.

I stared down the alleyway silently, posing as one who has been frightened.

"What happens to be the matter, Miss Delaney?" growled Barbossa.

"I, I think someone is down there. Watching." My voice was quivering, and I was afraid that it would give my act away, but continued anyway. "Do you think you should check?"

Barbossa let out a dangerous breath and snatched my shoulder, turning me around to face him. He was about to say something, until he saw the sack in my hand. "What is _that_?"

There was no time to reconsider, it was now or never. I brought my foot to his shin as hard as I could, kneed him in the groin, then wiggling out of his grasp. Thankfully, this all happened too quickly for the other four men, who had been peeking down the alleyway suspiciously, to notice in time to respond. When they turned around to see what the commotion was, I opened the sack of flour and flung it at their gaping faces.

Then I ran.

I hadn't ran like this since track, and I was finding it to be much harder than I imagined. The shoes I wore were cutting into my skin as I sprinted with all my might down the cobblestone road, clicking wildly as I gripped at my gathered dress, straining to disappear into the night. The shouts of Barbossa were heard behind me, ordering the men not to shoot as they stumbled through the dust of the flour, trying to find me.

My breathing was becoming hitched and shallow, no doubt attributed to the 'fashionably' tight clothing I was wearing. Thuds of boots on stone were heard behind me, clumsy and loud. I turned onto a smaller street, hoping they hadn't noticed my disappearance, my hair whipping recklessly behind me. Soon the mansion came into view, tall and intimidating in front of me, yet my only sanctuary. Cursing the fact it was on a hill, I ran up it with all my might, gasping for air, racing past the gates that were for some reason wide open, and collapsing onto the doorstep.

The voices of Barbossa could be heard not far behind, but I didn't think that he had realized where I had disappeared to. Yet. I tried the handle to the door. It was locked. Banging furiously, I called out in a frantic whisper for Robert or Elizabeth. _Where are they?_

"There she is!"

I gasped, and saw all five men hobbling toward me, baring their guns menacingly. I clawed at the door again, hammering my fists against the stubborn oak door. "ELIZABETH!" I shrieked. "ELIZABETH!"

The cocking of a gun was heard behind my head, but I didn't bothering turning. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you, Miss Delaney."

My mind went numb. So this was to be the end of Winifred Delaney, in front of a mansion, shot by pirates, begging for mercy. For some reason, the situation had not been what I was expecting, nor particularly what I had wanted for my death. The thought brought me out of my stupor long enough to face Barbossa.

"Well, I am the only one who knows where the map and key are."

The four pirates behind Barbossa looked at each other stupidly, shocked at my answer. The Captain himself wore a stony expression, never lowering the pistol. Suddenly, he smiled, and laughed softly.

"One thing you have that Miss Bronte didn't: sheer cheek. You may not be the fighting type, but you won't go down without having the last word."

I didn't say anything. Frankly, I couldn't see how the statement had been cheeky, but I wasn't about to interrupt.

"Normally, I don't care for insolence, but in your case, I will make an exception." Barbossa lowered his gun and grabbed my upper arm, pressing me against him. "You're lucky I'm a forgiving man. Now, care to tell me where the map and key are?"

"They're…inside. But the door is locked...I can't imagine why, though." My voice was still raspy from running and desperate thanksgiving he hadn't killed me, but Barbossa managed to hear me anyway.

"Not a problem, missy. Pintel, Ragetti, if you please."

The two stepped forward to prevent me from escaping while Barbossa stepped toward the door and shot the handle. "There. Now, Miss Delaney, if you would be so kind."

I was shoved roughly into the hallway by the men. Looking around, I noticed something very peculiar; there was dust everywhere, as if someone had not been home for some time.

"No one is here," I exclaimed in surprise, mostly to myself.

"And that be a problem?" asked Barbossa, stepping beside me.

And that's when it struck me, my brilliant idea. No one was here, including Elizabeth. I still had hope.

"Yes, actually, it is a very big problem."

"Oh?" Barbossa was in no way convinced. "How's that?"

"Elizabeth Turner has the map and key."

The room went dead silent for a full minute. Shyly, I looked at Barbossa, who's face was once again unreadable. "You're lying," he finally said, putting the pistol to my neck.

"Why would I lie when you have already threatened my life?"

"Because you are a clever girl."

"Then prove me wrong."

The place went deadly silent as Barbossa and I stared at each other, my own jaw clenched and vicious. The comment was a challenge; a very stupid idea, actually, but it had slipped out unplanned. Maybe he was right; maybe I did have some cheek. Barbossa grabbed my chin and forced it toward him, trying to detect any false moves. But my face was a mask, hiding all the fear I had inside. "That is a strong challenge, Miss Delaney."

"You can search the whole house, top to bottom, and they only place they would be is possibly in Elizabeth's room. However, I highly doubt they will be there."

"And why is that?"

"Because I requested that she keep them with her at all times. They are on a chain, so it can be worn as a necklace. I gave them to her for safe keeping, that is, after I heard of your raid on Savanna. It was her idea, and I went along with it. We both suspected they might have a connection."

Barbossa narrowed his eyes, then force my collar more open and peered at my neck and down my dress, most likely looking for the chain. Seeing nothing, he released me. "Miss Elizabeth is gone? And you haven't a clue where she could be?"

"She was still here when…when I was taken away by Sparrow. I don't know what has happened to her."

Graciously, the Captain accepted this explanation, which also happened to be the only true statement so far. "We must find out what has happened to Mrs. William Turner. But, seeing as you seemed to have disappeared mysteriously, it would be unwise to have you gallivanting in public. It would bring on too many questions." He began pacing wordlessly for a few minutes, the four pirates behind me becoming slowly impatient. Finally, he spoke again. "We will stay here, in the mansion, for the time being. Ragetti and Pintel will begin asking about Elizabeth tomorrow, dressed as relatives from England. Though, I wonder, how is it that you came to know Mrs. Turner?"

"We were sent by her aunt to live with her. I am the governess to her cousins, and we now live with her here."

Barbossa nodded. "Very well. I suggest you get some sleep. We will be in need of your services in the morning." Cackling, he traveled up the stairs, but stopped at the top and turned to me, who had been following. "You are treading on thin ice, Miss Delaney. _Very_ thin ice. I suggest you watch your step in the future, or it might be the last thing you ever do." His eyes glinted menecingly, and he tipped his hat slightly. "Goodnight. Sleep tight."

He went into a spare bedroom and slammed the door, leaving me standing there, trembling with shock. Somehow, I had managed to escape my death, but now was stuck here, still a prisoner of Barbossa. Where was Elizabeth? What had happened to everyone in the house? Overwhelmed by everything, I stumbled into my old room, sat on my bed and cried myself to sleep.


	23. Masquerade

AN: Woot! Longest chapter yet! Of couse, this is in exchange for no updates for about a week...

And finally, some action is starting to happen! No more dull chapters from here on out!

And as always, enjoy.

* * *

Two days had past since we came to Port Royal, both of which I spent most of my time in my room, avoiding the pirates that now ransacked the residence. It wasn't like I was allowed many other places, something Barbossa had made very clear. He did not want me noticed by anyone from the outside, in case they attempted a rescue of me. The less attention the Turner mansion received, the better.

Pintel and Ragetti had adopted to their new identities quickly: Gregory and Frances Pecking, two brothers who were uncles of Elizabeth, once removed. As of late, no one seemed to be aware of what had happened to Elizabeth; as far as the town was concerned, she had just up and disappeared. Of course, this was also the same governor's daughter who ran off with pirates and 'married' William Turner, who had yet to be seen. Then again, both pirates had been haunting the taverns and pubs in town, places they were, for obvious reasons, more comfortable. Seeing as Elizabeth was still considered high society, these places were not the best sources of information.

Which left Barbossa in a nasty mood. No news of Elizabeth, no information on the map and key, no nothing for the past two days had taken its toll on his character, and he was usually seen storming around the hallways, drunken and threatening anyone who dared get in his way with a sword.

Obviously, it was much safer in my room.

Unfortunately, I also had to eat meals, which meant I had to periodically descend into the kitchen and retrieve some food. On the third day, my trip happened to coincide with Barbossa's questioning of the two men over dinner.

Trying to be inconspicuous, I ducked into the room and began shuffling among the sacks and barrels. Barbossa had picked up and apple, and was now pacing the floor near Pintel and Ragetti, looking venomous.

"Three days you have been asking about Mrs. Turner! How can you not have any information?!"

Ragetti slumped in his chair like a scared puppy, fidgeting with his fingers. "She just seems to have disappeared. No one knows what happened to her. The house help up and vanished as well."

"That's because you dimwits haven't inquired of the right type of people!" Barbossa slammed his fists on the table, ratting the dishes on it. "This is _Elizabeth_ we are trying to find, the same little harlot that about got us all killed with the Aztec Treasure! If you think she is going to spend her time in taverns socializing with drunkards, you are gravely mistaken!" The two men glanced at each other frightfully. "Surely you have heard _something_."

"Well," said Pintel, "some blokes were talkin' about some mask-er-ade, what ever that might be…some big high-tee-doo up at the governor's mansion…"

"I don't care about a ball," hissed Barbossa, "I want--wait, did you say at the governor's mansion?" Pintel nodded vigorously, and Barbossa smiled, showing his rotting teeth. "Well, you two have proved to be useful after all. Miss Delaney."

I froze at my name, wincing inside. Whatever Barbossa had planned for me could not possibly be good. "Yes?"

"Do you like parties?"

I turned around slowly, understanding dawning upon me. "After all these lectures on how I can't be seen in public, and you want me to go to a ball? Can't you make up your mind?"

"Ah, but," he paused to take a bit out of his apple, "this is a masquerade. No one will know its you, because you have a mask on."

"And what good will this do?"

"High society is not as perfect as it may seem, something I'm sure you can agree with. No doubt there will be gossip flying about Mrs. William Turner and her mysterious departure."

I came up to the table and began to drum my fingers. "You want me to go to this ball to get information on Elizabeth?"

"It's that, or your life, Miss Delaney. You're a smart girl."

* * *

Finally, after two weeks or more of traveling on the _Pearl_, Ella was able to see the distant shore of Port Royal.

Ever since Richard had come, the voyage had become a complete heaven. Now, at last, they could talk, be with each other, hold each other, just what she had always dreamed of. And now, they were going to rescue Finn. Nothing could possibly dampen Ella's mood.

"So, your glorious plan now goes into effect, Captain," stated Ella, coming up beside Jack, who was, at the moment, spying thru his eye glass.

"You know, I think it was a stroke of good luck that Richard was the one we rescued. You have been much more agreeable ever since he arrived."

Ella hide a smile that was creeping onto her face. "You haven't answered my question."

"I wasn't aware it was a question, luv. But yes, this is where the glorious plan takes effect."

"And what exactly is it?"

Jack tapped his fingers against the spyglass before collapsing it and sticking it in a coat pocket. "We go into Port Royal, secretly of course, don't want to be caught, and locate the position of Barbossa, who I believe to already be here. Then, I go to said place, rescue dear Finn, retrieve the map and key, drop you two lasses and Richard off, and sail on to find my Fountain of Youth."

"Wait, we aren't coming with you?"

"Why should you? Three extra persons can be quite an inconvenience on a quest of this scale, especially if those three persons could honestly care less about said quest. No, it would much more tactful to leave you at Port Royal." With that said, Jack walked off, leaving Ella excited and relieved. So the three of them would be able to walk away from this unharmed. Finn and she could finally lead normal lives together, without the intrusion of criminals. It was too good to be true; yet, it was. At least, it certainly appeared that way.

* * *

Jack had originally planned to dock in the cove he had hidden the sloop in, but when seeing the _Flying Fortune_ there instead, they went about two miles further, leaving Jack in a bittersweet mood, seeing as they now had to chop there way thru three miles of jungle, but with the knowledge that Barbossa was indeed here.

Ella couldn't imagine where they would stay in Port Royal. Jack Sparrow was, after all, a wanted criminal. But apparently even the likes of him had a few friends in such a place, and Jack, Richard, Gibbs, Cotton, a one legged man named Mason, and herself were boarded in a dingy inn, out of the eyes of the fort and soldiers. The next day, they went out to investigate.

The first day provided no information on Barbossa's whereabouts; however, Ella did recognize the two men Pintel and Ragetti, who were parading around in ridiculously fancy outfits, asking of an Elizabeth Turner. This news was relayed to Jack, whom they had all deemed too recognizable to be seen in public, and therefore, remained in the inn.

"Hmm, so Mrs. Turner is gone?" mused Jack thoughtfully.

"We already knew that," explained Ella. "Richard met her with the Commodore, and she's still with him now. Well, she is with a Captain Dawson, but…"

"Dawson? Never heard of him. Must not be too important. So if Mrs. Turner is with them, then it can be assumed that her mansion is empty?"

"What about the house help?" asked Gibbs. "Elizabeth would have had maids and butlers and such. They wouldn't just up and vanish."

"Good point. Though, I do wonder, why is Barbossa so concerned with finding Elizabeth? He would of gotten the map and key from Finn by now. I would of expected them to be gone, and met them on the sea."

The six of them sat in silence, turning the thought in their heads. "Finn wouldn't just give up the map and key unless she knew she was safe," said Ella after a moment. "She knows that Barbossa is dangerous, and she not stupid. What I don't really understand is why they even came to Port Royal in the first place."

The five men looked at her like she had sprouted a tail. "What kind of question is that? To get the map and key, of course," answered Jack.

"Yes, but Finn always had it with her before, usually on a chain. She never really remembered to take off jewelry before she went to bed, so she slept with it on a lot. I can't imagine it would have changed much now."

Jack stared at her, shock and anger mixing in his expression. "You mean to say, Finn had the map and key the all the while she was traveling with me? And I could have taken it whenever I wanted?"

"Well…yes."

He cracked into a grin and whipped out his compass. "Now that certainly explains a lot! It was pointing toward the map and key the whole time!"

All he received were five blank stares, causing his to quickly stuff the compass back into his pocket. "Very well, so it is determined that Finn still has the items. So, it can only be assumed that she must have used something else to own the items, most likely Mrs. Turner, seeing as she conveniently gone. Which means Barbossa will be staying here until news reaches his own crusty ears of where Elizabeth's whereabouts are."

The five other nodded there heads hesitantly, not quite understanding the explanation, but knowing better than to say as such. "Now all that's left is how to find dear Finn. Did you happen to hear what Pintel and Ragetti were asking about? Any hints to where they might be staked out?"

Richard picked at a loose thread in his shirt. "Nothing about where they lived, though the man they were talking to was talking about some masquerade the governor was hosting for Port Royal. Apparently the whole town is invited, rich or poor. They didn't seem terribly interested in it though."

Jack laid back in the chair he was sitting in and tilted the hat over his head, staying in the motionless position well over ten minutes, leaving the remaining people to fidget awkwardly. Finally, he sat up and looked them over for a moment. "I think that I will go to this masquerade. Excellent place for information. People will have noticed odd things in a town like this. And chances are, there will be superb rum, something I have been in dire lack of. Was there a date to said ball?"

"Three days from now," mumbled Richard.

Gibbs looked utterly aghast. "Captain, you can't just go waltzing into a public place! You're a wanted man!"

"My dear Mr. Gibbs, I am touched by your concern, however, you are forgetting that you are speaking to _Captain Jack Sparrow_. And besides, I will be wearing a mask. It is after all, a masquerade. Now, who would like to join me in the bar for a brotherly round of drinks?"

Gibbs, Cotton, and Mason all rose happily, following Jack out the door. When realizing that Richard and Ella had stayed behind, he turned back and peeked in. "Now, you two don't be too loud or anything like that. The walls are thin, and we will only be on the other side of it."

Ella blushed a cherry red color, and threw a vase at him, which he expertly ducked, chuckling peevishly. "I cannot believe…" she growled.

Richard took her shoulders and made her sit down, wary of the coming storm, but not before throwing a disapproving look at the Captain as he disappeared. "Ella, darling, ignore him."

She looked at Richard and her fury disappeared instantly. Sighing, Ella snuggled up into a ball and leaned into his chest. "I do hope Finn is okay, and that Jack's plan works out."

Richard nodded. "Yes, I do to. I can't say I entirely trust him. He's so…quiet about what he does."

"What?"

"Well, no, he's quiet about what he is thinking. I never know _why_ he is doing something. For example, going to this ball."

"It sounds an awful lot like something Jack would do, from the stories Gibbs has told me."

"I wonder just how many of those stories are true. It seems as if Sparrow has woven a legend for himself, and now, he believes it."

Ella chuckled. "He does appear to have a rather inflated ego, though, I think the stories do have some truth to them, like many myths that are told. I always thought that it would be great fun to be in a myth, but now, it's not so exciting. I'm worried about Finn."

"I am too," mumbled Richard in agreement.

"I don't trust Jack either. Honestly, I wish we were the ones rescuing her, getting the information, not him. As you said, he makes plans that no one else knows about, and people get hurt. Look at this last time with Finn! He used her as a bargaining chip!"

Richard silently stroked her hair, humming a tune quietly. "Maybe we ought to go," he finally said. "I really think we should. If we find information on Winnie, we can go rescue her, give the map and key to Jack, then leave. He wouldn't have any part in it, and we would be safe."

Ella sat up and looked at Richard lovingly. "Would you really do that with me?" He nodded and hugged her. "What I wouldn't give to make sure she's safe again," Ella mumbled into his shirt.

"We're going to need costumes."

Ella smiled slyly. "So is Jack. We can offer to buy him his costume, and while we do, get ourselves our own. If the governor is hosting the party for everyone, it shouldn't be too hard to find a decent costume in one of the seamstresses stores."

"So its settled then."

The two smiled before kissing gently. "Yes, it is."

* * *

It was the night of the ball, a cloudy, damp evening, where danger almost hung from the air like a chandelier. Danger from what, I wasn't quite sure. Maybe it was the man standing next to me.

I was going to the ball, but accompanied by Barbossa, who had deemed it unsafe for me to wander about alone, asking for information. Of course he thought as much, seeing as it would have been the perfect moment for escape.

We must have been a rather odd looking couple: I was dressed as the North Star, glittering magnificently in my white dress, my dark hair decorated by small diamonds, pearls, and sapphires, and a shining mask that covered my eyes and forehead. Ragetti had said that I looked as stunning as an angel before we left, something I hadn't expected to hear from him.

If I was an angel, then I would have to be the angel of death, because that was exactly who my escort was. Barbossa had opted to dress as a skeleton, an idea I suspected to be related to the cursed Aztec Treasure. He had managed to find a skeleton mask that covered his entire face, and a sinister black cape that trailed behind him like some disease. To only add to the effect, he included a large black hat, and so it was that we entered the ballroom, receiving awed and confused stares. Gritting my teeth, I walked farther into the room. I did not want to be here, even if I did get to dress up and look pretty. I did not want to be a prisoner any longer, even if I was allowed to be off the ship and on dry land. And I really did not want to be with this pirate.

Taking a deep breath, I looked up hesitantly at Barbossa, who nodded slowly. So it began.

* * *

Jack had decided to come early, something he was not accustomed to. In fact, he was not accustomed at all to coming to balls, but seeing as he needed as much time as possible to glean information from the people present, he had decided it might serve in his best interests.

It was quickly apparent no one had seen or heard anything unusual, except for the sudden arrival of Elizabeth's "relatives." He had almost given up, but something told him not to leave just yet. After all, there was the rum.

Which now left him brooding slightly, leaning casually against the wall, staring out into the dancing crowd. Ella had suggested that she pick out a costume for him, something he readily agreed to, until she gave it to him.

He was sure it had been meant to mock him: it was a jester outfit, complete with the belled hat and checked vest. It was that costume he had almost worn to the ball, until a stroke of genius hit him, and he changed costumes last minute.

Now, instead of a clown, he was dressed as the knave of hearts, inspired mostly after the last insult Finn had thrown had him. It was an excellent disguise; simple yet secretive, and not too noticeable in the crowd of colors. Unfortunately, he had to give up a few things to disguise himself (too many people were familiar with him here), such as the braided goatee he favored, but it was something that could be grown back. Gibbs had insisted that he cut off his dreadlocks, but in a fluke of good luck, he had found a white wig that would be able to hide his hair.

Bored with the lack of action, Jack strutted to the door, eyeing the prettier ladies that crossed his path. There was a lovely looking 'flower' that caught his eye, and he was seriously considering asking her to dance, or more, just to pass the time, until _she_ caught his eye.

Well, it wasn't the lady that had caught his eye, but who she was with, actually. Dressed in white and looking like an angel, it was odd that the man next to her was her escort, for he was robed in all black. It was as if day and night had walked in hand in hand.

Or more precisely, life and death, seeing as the man was a skeleton. Frowning, Jack moved closer for a better view. The man was tall, very tall, just like Barbossa. And the lady's hair was the same rich, dark chocolate color that Finn had. In fact, the lady looked awful lot like Finn…

Grinning Jack smoothed out his jacket and meandered to where they were standing, stopping a few feet away. If he suspected correctly, rescuing Finn might be easier than planned.

* * *

Ella held Richard's had tightly, watching the wave of color that was washing over her. It was a glorious party, to be sure, but now was not the time to stand in amazement. Now was the time to find Finn.

"Don't worry, my love," crooned Richard. "We will find Finn, don't you worry. The party is just getting started. It is going to take an hour or too before tongues are loosened. Why don't we just enjoy ourselves?"

Ella sighed and looked at Richard's masked face. They had dressed up as the sun and the moon, she being the golden sun. Her dress was a deep, gold color that shimmered whenever she moved. A small tiara adorned her hair that glittered wistfully. Richard had commented she looked absolutely divine.

There's not much one can say to a compliment like that, and she had been silently suffering, worrying about Finn. Looking up, she saw Richard motioning toward the dance that was beginning. Ella sighed in defeated, and she graciously took Richard's hand and let him lead her out onto the dance floor. While she danced she tried to look for Jack's clown outfit, but to no avail. Had he changed his mind? Or had he not shown up yet? Instead, she saw a lady in a beautiful white dress, but paid no mind to her. Sighing softly, Ella faced back to Richard, smiling hesitantly. At least she could enjoy her time with him.

* * *

"This event seems to be rather popular," grumbled Captain Dawson as he walked into the governor's ballroom dressed as King Midas. He was with the Commodore, who had a mask of a hawk on.

"Hence the reason we are here," answered Belmont haughtily. "I am sure that Miss Winifred Delaney would not pass up an event like this, even if she is a prisoner."

It was a stroke of good luck that Commodore Belmont had acquired information on Winifred, or Jack Sparrow, actually. They had been returning to Port Royal, as planned, when they ran into a small merchant ship. The captain had said he had witnessed, at a distance, an exchange between Barbossa and Sparrow, where Sparrow had regained the _Black Pearl_. This captain now said that the _Pearl_ was heading toward Port Royal not two days ahead of them.

Now, Belmont remembered the hesitancy at which Elizabeth would reveal Winifred's kidnapper, and he still had yet to know for sure, but he knew for a fact that it had to be someone she knew, and was close to. Her relationship with Jack Sparrow had been widely gossiped about on the streets, and so it could be assumed that Sparrow had taken Winifred, though he had yet to find out how. But now that they were at Port Royal, they would of course be looking for Mrs. Turner (he assumed), who was obviously not available. They would need information, and social gatherings like this were always the best place to find that information.

Dawson had insisted on coming along, not something Belmont was pleased with, but could do nothing to stop. He couldn't imagine why the pirate would want to come, until he saw him eyeing a group of ladies who were passing in front of them. "We don't have time to associate," warned the Commodore softly. "We are looking for Miss Delaney." Dawson glared at him but said nothing.

Looking out into the crowd, Belmont watched people as they talked, flirted, danced, and ate. There was no one who stood out particularly. The governor was obvious, dressed up as Jupiter, and a rather silly one at that, seeing as his pudgy body would never be associated with the Roman gods. There were a number of lovely ladies, a few dressed up as flowers, one as the sun, one as a fairy, and another as a star, but nothing more. Clenching his fists slightly, Belmont delved deeper into the crowd. Maybe it would be harder to find Winifred than he thought.

* * *

Scanning the room, I saw no one I was familiar with. This was going to make things much harder.

"I'm not exactly clear on what you want me to be asking," I muttered at Barbossa as he led me, rather forcefully, toward the dance floor.

"I don't want you asking anything," he corrected. "I want you listening."

"That isn't going to get me very far. It's probably been awhile since Elizabeth has left. People don't gossip that long."

Barbossa spun me around suddenly as the dance began and leaned down toward my ear. "Pray that they do." Smiling wickedly, he spun me around again, and as I danced, chills went up and down my spine. That had been a threat, no doubt, and it was scaring me. Just what would Barbossa do to me? So far, he had been…decent enough, for a captor. But how far over the line would he let me step? How much longer was I safe?

I glanced sideways periodically, watching for someone I might know, for they were my only chance. Chance of what? I wasn't sure. Escape, maybe? In my mind, though, I knew it was going to take a lot more than a few ladies to rescue me from this pirate. I needed a savior.

The dance ended, and Barbossa led us off the floor and stopped, waiting for me to do something, probably go talk to someone. He was tapping his foot now. "Well?" he muttered.

"I'm looking," I answered softly, a slight tremor in my voice, though I tried to make it sound nonchalant. "It's a bit more difficult that it may seem, seeing as everyone has masks on." Barbossa grunted in annoyance, but seemed to accept the explanation.

I went to the wall, with Barbossa trailing behind, as another dance began. There was a group of ladies, dressed as the Greek Muses it seemed; probably the Roderick sisters, seeing as the family had seven of them. However, I was never very friendly with them, and showed no sign of recognition. There was a pony and flowers that walked past, none who I knew, and a couple, the moon and sun, but I paid them no mind. I sat down in a chair, motioning for Barbossa to do the same.

"I suggest you hurry up," he growled.

"Be patient. These parties usually go on for half the night, normally longer. Give it an hour or two, and people will start talking."

Hopefully.

"I don't know if you've realized this yet, Miss Delaney, but I don't particularly enjoy social gatherings like this."

"What, you afraid of being arrested? It's a good thing you have a mask then," I countered sharply. Probably not the wisest move on my part, but the comment had been begging to be said.

Indeed, Barbossa looked about ready to kill me, and might have, except a man intervened between us. He was taller than me, and had on a ridiculously large white wig and a white mask this hearts on the sides. In fact, he looked quite a bit like the Jack of Hearts. Smiling, he bowed gracefully and took my hand in his. "M'lady, may I have this dance?"

A new song was playing, a slow waltz; I hadn't noticed the change. Blushing furiously at the sudden attention, I smiled courteously, if not shyly, and stood up, following him to the floor.

The man wrap his arm tightly around my waist, as if he were afraid of loosing me, causing our faces to only be six inches apart. Taking my hand up, he led me smoothly and elegantly as the music continued. "Do I have the pleasure of knowing your name?" he asked quietly after a moment. The voice sounded falsely low, but I didn't pay any mind to it.

"Winifred Delaney," I answered. "Yours?"

He smiled, and there seemed to be a familiar gleam to his eyes as he did. Leaning down to my ear, he whispered, "It's a secret," making my skin tingle as his breath caressed me.

"And why is that?" I challenged faintly.

The music had stopped, and he was leading me away to the outside. "No reason," he answered. "I just like keeping them."

The voice was bugging me. I had a feeling that I knew it from somewhere, and the smile…it was driving me nuts. Looking behind me, I saw Barbossa watching us intently. "Let's not go out," I insisted, taking his arm.

"Why not?"

I glanced back at Barbossa. "My…escort would be worried, I believe."

The man turned to face the pirate as well. "Who is he?"

"He's…a man." He raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"I'm a man too. What is his name?" The man had taken my shoulders and was forcefully heading us toward the outside door. I couldn't do much in protest.

Instead of answering, I was silent, trying to weigh the pros and cons of telling the truth. So far, I had come up with many cons, such as the man wouldn't believe me, or Barbossa would be very angry.

"Well?"

We were outside now, and he was taking me toward the garden, dark and mysterious. I turned my head around quickly, trying to gain sense of where I was and who was around. No one was around.

"I can't really say…" I said meekly, adjusting myself so I could face him. Behind me was a large tree. I was trapped, and I couldn't concentrate from how nervous I was. This was not a situation I wanted to be in.

"Ah, I see," he murmured. "A criminal, then?" Laughing softly, he leaned down so our faces were only an inch away, bringing his hand up to stroke my cheek faintly. "Or perhaps, a _pirate_?"

I couldn't move. My feet were securely frozen to the spot. I couldn't think. The situation was horribly familiar, but I just couldn't remember. He brought his mouth to my ear and whispered huskily, "Pirates are dangerous, luv. _Very_ dangerous."

Luv. I knew that name, that ridiculous pet name.

Jack Sparrow.

"_You!_" I gasped, trying to push away, but having little luck. "Get away from me!"

He only smiled and fastened me securely to his chest, limiting my movements significantly. Our faces were still only about an inch away, and his breath was fogging my ability to think clearly.

"Now, now, luv. Stop struggling; you don't really mean that."

I stopped, and looked up at him. His eyes were hard to read in the darkness, and it was a little unnerving. Leaning down closer, so our noses were brushing slightly, he muttered faintly, "You'd rather be with me than Barbossa and you know it."

Barbossa. That was right, I was with Barbossa now.

Collecting my thoughts, I hissed, "And who's fault is that?"

Jack, who had been stroking my arms, stopped, staring down at me warily. "You sold me to Barbossa," I continued, a dangerous air to my tone. "You sold me for some stupid hunk of wood, that can't even _think, breathe, or live_." It was taking all of my self-control to not scream at him, and I could hear a tremor in my voice despite of it. Jack was looking desperately worried…no, not worried, something else I couldn't quite put my finger on. But it didn't matter to me.

Placing my hands on his chest, I pushed back forcefully, trying to make him let me free. "Get your dirty mitts off of me," I snarled. "_Let me go_."

Jack raised his finger in the air, mimicking someone deep in thought. "Sorry, sweetheart. I'm afraid that isn't an option."

I could feel my heart begin to race at the statement. What exactly did Jack have planned? What was going to happen to me? Smiling puckishly, he firmly took my arm and started leading me toward the back gate hurriedly.

This was the last straw. I had been used over and over again for other peoples' gain, and I was absolutely sick of it. Biting my lip defiantly, I stuck out my foot, tripping Jack, and sending both of us rolling onto the grass.

I scrambled up as fast as I could and blitzed it toward the mansion, hearing Jack swear profusely at his bad luck while trying to locate me in the dark. When I reached the veranda, I spared a quick glance backward, where Sparrow and I locked eyes. I could feel myself becoming light-headed at the intensity of his stare, those deep, dark brown eyes.

"Finn," he hissed, "come back with me. I can get you away from here, away from Barbossa. You'll be safe, luv. I promise."

Safe. All I really wanted right now was to be safe. He seemed to sense my faltering, because he continued.

"Ella is with us, you two can be together again. I'll keep you safe, Finn. Just come with me this time."

He was closer now, maybe ten feet away. "I went with you once, and became a bartering chip," I whispered. "What importance will I serve this time? The map? You're no better than Barbossa." This seemed to have hit a tender spot with Jack, for he stopped in his tracks, emotionless, unspeaking. "That's all I've been for the last few months, someone's tool. I'm sick of being used. I hate it." The hurt was creeping out, and I gulped to try and hide it. "Leave me alone, let me go away. I never want to see you again."

Jack, for once in his life, seemed utterly dumbstruck. Fighting back my tears, I hurried into the ballroom, and bumped straight into a man that was dressed as Midas.

"Sorry," I mumbled, trying to push my way past him.

"Now, now, my dear," he said, taking my hand firmly. "You seem upset. What's the problem?"

"Nothing," I insisted, pulling away from his grasp. "But thank you for your concern."

"Dawson, what are you doing?" said a man who had come up behind me. He was dressed as a bird, but the voice was extremely familiar.

Looking up in wonderment, I saw the recognizable set jaw of the Commodore. "Belmont?" I asked shyly. "Is that you?"

The man gave no answer, just stared fixedly at me for a time before leaning down closer, with a gleam in his eye that for a moment seemed sinister, but was wiped away in an instant.


	24. Unmasqued

AN: Here is a long chapter to make of for lost time. This is really the first part of a big chapter, but, alas, it was too big, and I decided to split it up. Unfortunately, this means the action is interrupted...sorry, rambling to myself again. If you are confused by any part (which you might be. I got confused writing it), then feel free to ask.

As always, enjoy.

* * *

"Winifred?" he answered, surprised. "You have been crying."

"It's nothing, Commodore," and said, wiping my tears away quickly. But an onslaught came as relief washed over my mind. Finally, someone I could trust without any doubt clouding my mind. "I am so glad to have found you! I have been so…so…I don't even know where to start!"

I was sobbing at this point, on the verge of a break down, and Dawson had the courtesy to catch me before I collapsed. "What has happened?" muttered Belmont quietly. His eyes seemed to radiate concern, so much so that it appeared strained and fake. I didn't care, I just needed someone who would listen and help.

"Too many things. But I don't want to talk about it here. Just take me away!"

"I believe that can be arranged. Come with us please."

Walking out, I took off my mask and wiped away the rest of my stingin tears. I thought I heard someone call my name, someone who sounded quite a bit like Richard, but when I looked back, I couldn't see him, or at least recognize him. So I ignored it.

I followed the Commodore and his friend like a lost puppy, sobbing every once in a while, then blushing furiously because of it. I hated to cry in front of people; my face bloated and my eyes became puffy. All in all, I usually looked rather pathetic, but everything that had happened to me was too overwhelming, and no longer cared.

It was then I remembered about Barbossa, and turned back to see if he was following us. No one could be seen as I squinted into the night, but then again, he was wearing mostly black.

"Miss Delaney, if you could please hurry," insisted Belmont with a slight annoyance to his tone. I looked at him in surprise, but did as asked. If Barbossa did try anything, it would three against one, and Barbossa was not foolish enough to try that kind of odds.

It was dark outside, cloudy and damp, with the full moon peeking out every now and then. Unfortunately, neither man had thought to bring a torch of any kind, and the three of us meandered blindly, feeling our way through the allies and streets. Finally, we reached the dock, and Belmont led me onto a ship, one that was not his own, with Dawson close behind.

"Commodore," I whispered, though I wasn't sure why, "this isn't your ship. Where am I?"

"It is the _Midas_," he muttered. "Dawson, if you could be so kind."

Dawson, who had taken off his mask, was grinning like a madman, and a terrible feeling was forming in my stomach. Men that had not been on the deck before were creeping forward stealthily. They were dirty, grimy, and had a horrid, wicked glint in their eyes.

"Pirates!" I gasped, cluthing my hands to my chest defensivly.

"Set sail, ye scallywags!" growled Dawson. "You three, take this one down to the brig with the other two."

"Other two?" I shrieked. "Belmont, what's happening?"

The Commodore smirked, and vile, disgusting grin that put forth all of his evil intentions. "I'm sure you can figure that out for yourself. Goodnight, Miss Delaney."

"NO!!!" I screamed, hitting one of the advancing men squarely over the head. "I WILL NOT BE USED LIKE THIS!!!"

For some reason, this outbreak stopped all actions on deck, and wondering eyes turned in my direction to see a furious, frightened women, pale and shaking. The spell didn't last long. The three assigned men grabbed me once again, guffawing like lunatics, touching and rubbing me all over as they dragged me toward the brig.

"NO!!! LET GO OF ME!!! NO!!! NO!!!" I screeched again. This time, I kicked and fought until my feet were on the ground. Then I punched and bit and scratched and shoved until my dress was successfully ripped off and I was cornered to the railing, the three men not but four feet away, laughing uproariously. All of the other crew was watching, laughing as well. They all knew there was no chance that I could possibly escape, for the ship was now beginning to leave the dock of Port Royal.

I peeked over the edge of the railing to the water. It was a long way down. A _very_ long way down.

"You would drown before you reached the shore," said Belmont lazily. "Don't bother, Miss Delaney."

So they all assumed that I couldn't swim. Natural, I supposed, for most women at this time couldn't swim.

However, I was an excellent swimmer, and intended to use this to my advantage. Now there was the problem of height. It wasn't that I was afraid of the height itself, it was what was going to happen when I hit the water. Once, as a young girl, I had gone off the high dive and landed an excellent belly flop that left me coughing up blood. I had never bothered to try diving since.

But I had been kidnapped twice before, and did not intend to make this the third time. I was not an object; no longer would I be treated like one. Taking a deep breath, I placed myself on the edge, ready to fall.

"Don't you dare," snarled Belmont, and the three men charged, right as I toppled into the sea below.

I went under, the perfect pencil dive and began to swim for my life, praying they wouldn't shoot at me. I stayed under until my lungs felt like they would burst, surfacing maybe twenty feet away, only to hear the frantic shouts of Belmont and Dawson mingling, telling the men to turn the ship around.

That's all I bothered to listen for. Straightway I began to swim as fast as my body could go to the shore. Thankfully, the ship had not gone very far, and after five minutes of intense breaststroke, I collapsed onto the sandy shore, exhausted and frigid. For two minutes I lay there, gasping for air and reminding my limbs how to move.

"There she is!"

I struggle up to see a mob of men running toward me, not from the docks, but the forest, about 100 meters away. It took my mind a moment to realize the importance of this, but understanding hit like a sledge hammer. Barbossa had most of his crew stationed in the forest, with the ship. These men were coming from the forest; these men were Barbossa's crew.

No wonder Barbossa hadn't chased after me when I left. As said, he was no fool. He was going to get the full force of his crew behind him before retrieving me.

Or kill me. I wasn't sure which.

And I didn't bother to stay and find out. Seeing fifty men charge me, waving swords and such in the air somehow regenerated my body into functioning properly, and I jumped up, sprinting along the beach, sand flying in every direction as I booked it to Port Royal.

* * *

_"Leave me alone, let me go away. I never want to see you again."_

Jack stood still, watching Finn leave. Or more precisely, watching where she had left from, seeing as it had been twenty minutes since their conversation.

_"I never want to see you again."_

So she hated him. Finn no longer wanted anything to do with him.

Understandable, in all respects. Unfortunately, the moment she walked through the door away from him, he had realized something horrible, wonderful, and what would probably prove to be his downfall.

Jack wanted Finn.

The worst part was that he knew he didn't _want_ her, he wanted _her_. He had had fleeting relationships, mostly revolving around rum and pleasure, with other women, but he didn't really care if they went and killed themselves the next morning. He didn't really care if they suddenly disappear off the face of the earth, never to be seen by him again. He had gotten them once, and once was good enough.

But Finn…he cared if _she_ were to disappear; he was caring right now. He cared that she was miserable, betrayed, and he felt absolutely rotten about it, because he knew it was _his_ fault. The difference between her and other women was that he cared about _her_.

As if everything wasn't bad enough, he had screwed up. And he probably wasn't going to get Finn. Ever. She knew something he refused to consider, the same thing he had ignored with Elizabeth. She was too good, and he was too bad. It was as simple as that.

Finn stuck by the rules, always gave help to those who needed it, tried to behave well and would never commit a crime if she could help it. He was selfish, greedy, criminal, and in general a very bad egg, something he had prided himself for until just now.

He almost slapped himself as these thoughts went through his head. Here he was, moping, being sentimental. He was _Captain_ _Jack Sparrow_. When he wanted something, he got it one way or another. Keeping it, now that was another matter entirely.

But he wanted Finn; he was going to get her, and he was going to keep her.

Smirking to himself, he followed the same trail as Finn out of the ballroom, whistling the tune Elizabeth had taught him so long ago on that deserted island.

* * *

"Ella, Winnie is here!" whispered Richard urgently.

Ella frowned, and looked at him skeptically. She had gone to freshen herself up for a moment, leaving Richard alone to stand near the door. "She's here?"

"Not anymore! She left with some fellow dressed as a hawk, and another dressed as a king."

Ella raised her eyebrow. "How do you know it was her?"

"She took off her mask."

"Well, let's follow her!" said Ella, tearing off her own mask and grabbing his hand impatiently. "I don't know why she was here, but we can't let anyone get to her right now! Barbossa is here, we know that. She's probably trying to escape from him!"

"Who would she have left with?"

"I…don't know."

The two looked at each other wonderingly. "It doesn't matter," decided Ella. "We just need to find Finn. That's all that matters." Richard nodded and together they ran out of the ball room and into the streets of fate.

* * *

"Elizabeth! Something is happening! Do you hear that shouting?" whispered Clarissa.

The governors daughter had, to the surprise of Elizabeth, taken her situation with a fair amount of grace. Yes, she cowered, yes, she begged to be let free, but over the past weeks, she had not shouted or scream or lost her head. Clarissa had been practical, something that had not been previously expected.

"Yes, I hear it. But I can't understand what they are saying," muttered Elizabeth, but her mind was elsewhere. During the long times of being left alone, she had been fashioning some type of hook out of the fabric of her dress, along with what ever little pieces of metal she could reach from the cell in the brig. She was making the finishing touches now.

"The ship is turning around again!" exclaimed Clarissa. "But we were just leaving! Do you suppose they're trying to catch someone?"

Elizabeth, at this comment, looked up. "Possibly…where are we?"

Clarissa shrugged. The Commodore had been very strict in the rule that these prisoners were to know absolutely nothing. They had no window, so timeframe and area were not available.

"Aha! It's done!" smiled Elizabeth, holding up her hook. Clarissa studied it skeptically.

"If you think it will work…"

"Watch. I've known Jack Sparrow for years, and stuff like this always seemed to work for him." Elizabeth reached her arms through the bars, aimed, and swung the hook towards the keys, which were about ten feet away. It missed.

"Elizabeth, you aren't Jack Sparrow," groaned Clarissa, sinking down to her knees. "The chances of us getting out of here alive…"

"Don't be pessimistic. Just wait. It will work."

* * *

The _Midas_ reached port within ten minutes of Winifred's dive over the railing, and Belmont was furious.

"I want everyone on this ship to scour the town for Miss Delaney," he snarled, grabbing an unfortunate man by the collar as he said this. He speaking not only to Dawson's crew, but his own, whom he had told Winifred was a wanted criminal. "You are to go in groups of threes. If anyone spots her, two will go to restrain her and one will come back to inform me. _Is that clear_?"

Soldier and pirate alike nodded their heads, soon running into the night to search for the unfortunate target, who was yet to enter Port Royal.

"What are we doing?" asked Dawson, following Belmont off his ship as a small child would.

"What everyone else is. Do you honestly think I intend to stand here, putting full faith in either crew to actually find Miss Delaney? You disgust me, Dawson."

Dawson opened his mouth to defend himself, but Belmont was already walking ahead, and so the pirate followed.

It was late at night, and most people were asleep, curled up in their beds, not aware of the life-threatening search that was about to begin. The pirate and soldier threesomes were pacing the streets quietly, being careful not to be too loud, and Belmont, with Dawson, was in the mists of them all, straining his eyes for any sign of movement, reminding everyone to remain quiet.

They were about three blocks from the governor's mansion when, out of the corner of his eyes, two people were seen slinking along in the shadows. Silently, he slipped to the side, leaving Dawson to check an alleyway, so as to catch a glimpse of who the two persons might be.

"Richard, what's going on? I've seen five groups of men, just walking around. They look like…pirates."

Belmont frowned, recognizing the voice all too well. That was Ella Bronte. But Ella had been kidnapped by Barbossa, a fact that seemed to have escaped his memory as his long search for Winifred had started.

And that's when he remembered, the key element that had begun this entire adventure: Ella had his ruby key.

And here was Ella Bronte, with the runaway Richard, whom he had forgotten about as well. It was too perfect of an opportunity.

As both approached where he stood, watching for the groups he had sent out warily, he hid behind stacked barrels until they were five feet in front of him. Then he stepped out, ever so silently, and pulled out his pistol and pointing it at Richard. "Miss Bronte, and Lieutenant Tremaine. What a pleasant surprise."

Both spun around in fright, Ella's face going slightly pale when she saw the pistol pointing at Richard. "Belmont," she said, her voice cracking slightly.

"Yes. It is me. I was hoping to see you, both of you in fact, again. Each of you have some unfinished business with me. Ella, I am going to have to insist that you come with me. Richard, I do believe desertion is punishable by death, a sentence I intend to carry out now."

* * *

"NO!" cried Ella, throwing herself in front of him. "Don't! I'll do whatever you want, just don't shoot him!"

Belmont smiled, a terrible villainous smile. "I had been wondering when this would happen, that both of you would finally realize what you meant to the other. It's too perfect. Ella, I want you to come with me onto the _Hildegard_."

Ella was frozen, looking at her beloved and the Commodore back and forth. "Very well."

"Ella, don't," pleaded Richard. "Don't trust him."

"I suggest you keep quiet," growled Belmont, sticking the pistol out further. "Miss Bronte, come here. Or Richard is dead."

After one fleeting look at Richard, she came forward, staring blindly down the barrel of the pistol in front of her. This couldn't be real, her leaving Richard, going with the Commodore. Looking up, she saw Belmont glaring fiercely at her, as if fire had erupted in his bright blue eyes, giving him a crazed look. "Move," he ordered, the demand more of a snarl that anything, and grabbing her wrist harshly, yanked her out of the way and fired.

Ella screamed, a blood-curdling, heartbreaking scream as Richard collapsed to the ground. "NO! RICHARD!" She struggled viciously, trying to release Belmont's relentless grasp on her. But he was too strong for her, and soon both her arms were trapped at her sides. She raised her head, trying to look Belmont on the eye. "You lying _bastard_!"

He let loose a wild cackle. "I would think you would have been smarter, Miss Bronte. You knew I was dangerous, I could see it in your eyes. I don't know how, but you knew."

Tears were streaming down her face, burning as they ran across her cheeks. When Belmont had fired, it felt like half of her had been blasted away, leaving a gaping hole where her heart had been. "You _killed_ him!" Ella screeched. "You _murderer_!"

"Yes. I am." Belmont looked at her, piercing through her mind, scratching out what little heart she did have left. It felt like she was dying from the inside out, as though she would explode from the agony of having Richard gone. Belmont was dragging her away; Ella was shrieking, sobbing, struggling for her freedom.

Then…Belmont yelled, more in surprise than actual hurt. Ella, whose eyes had been previously blinded by misery, looked to what Belmont was afraid of. There, holding a pistol, was a man.

In fact, it was Richard.

Before either Belmont or she could respond properly, Richard had brought the pistol up and whacked it against the Commodore's head, who promptly crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

Ella stared dumbly, wondering for a moment if it was an apparition that stood before here. Her doubt dissipated when he pulled her into a passionate kiss that made her soar. When they broke away, she stared lovingly into his beautiful gray eyes. "How…?"

"Belmont has terrible aim, something not many people know. I knew he was going to fire, so I just pretended--"

"Oi! The Commodore!"

The heads of the two lovers snapped up to see a large blonde pirate sprinting toward, trying to draw his pistol. "Dawson!" gasped Richard. "Run!"

Both took off into the night, avoiding the groups of pirates and soldiers that seemed to ransack the area. Through alleyways and streets, behind barrels and through bushes the two ran, stopping every now and then to rest. But another group of pirates always seemed to see them, and once again Ella and Richard would take off, wondering where was the protection they needed so badly, and whether anyone else in Port Royal was aware of the impending danger that flooded the streets right now.

Another group was chasing them, and Ella could hear the Commodore's voice in the distance, shouting for his soldiers to find them at all costs. Heads were peaking out of windows and doors, children asking their mothers what was happening. Screams could be heard from women as pirates entered their homes.

The three pirates behind them had almost caught up, and Ella put on a burst of speed that had been sleeping from her track days. Then suddenly…Richard wasn't by her. She skidded to a halt, circling around to try and find him. He just wasn't there.

"There she is!"

Two more pirates came charging, not twenty feet away. After a fleeting glance behind her, Ella sprinted off again, her breaths coming in ragged gasps, a desperate attempt to stay alive.

* * *

I flew into Port Royal, probably the fastest I have ever ran in my life. Skittering behind a pile of rope, I collapsed into a useless heap.

I knew I couldn't stay for long, but Barbossa's crew was slower than I was, and it was dark. At least a few minutes could pass before I needed to worry about running again. In the meantime, I could try and remember how to breathe. A corset was still restraining my breathing abilities, and I tried to pick the laces out, but to no success. They were swollen with the water from my swim, which was only constricting them more, making it even harder to breath than before. I pulled on the corset itself, hoping I could loosen it just a little, but it wouldn't budge. After another shallow breath, I clutched my stomach anxiously. I was going to suffocate if I ran any more.

At this point, all I wanted to do was wallow in self-pity, but it was a wish I had learned to ignore. Instead, I stood up shakily, and peeked out of the alley way cautiously.

To my utter horror, I saw men, pirates, running around, as if looking for something. Scrunching my eyes up, I could make out some of the men who were closer to me, but they most certainly were not from Barbossa's crew…

Out of the corner of my eye, a saw a large flame go up, catching onto the surrounding buildings. Screams of terror penetrated the air, and raucous laughter mingled with the smoke as it weaved its way toward the sky.

Now that was definitely Barbossa's crew, and they had entered Port Royal. Once again, I was in grave danger. However, I was a little hesitant to leave my current location. Firstly, I really wanted to know who these other pirates were, and what exactly they were looking for. Secondly, I had nowhere to go, no where safe.

"_I'll keep you safe, Finn."_

I blinked, peeved that _he_ even dared enter my thoughts, but the statement wouldn't leave. Safe. I just wanted to be safe again. I just wanted to stop running, stop hiding.

The emotion was becoming too overwhelming, and tears slid out from my eyes, which I hastily tried to wipe away. Of all the times to become sensitive, this was the worse. But I couldn't stop myself, and, falling to the ground again, I let loose hot, angry tears.

"Well, well, what do we have here?"

My sudden outburst had left me quite without breath, and after gasping for air and drying my face hurridly, I looked up to see three dark figures standing over me. The light from the fire silhouetted them, as if angels of death were coming to take me away.

"Poor, poor poppet," cackled the one to my left. He bent down to study me, and grinned wider when he saw what I was dressed in. "You seem to be lost. And, being gentlemen, we would gladly help you find your way home."

The other two guffawed stupidly at the lewd comment. Clenching my fists together, I growled in response, "Get away from me."

The three pirates laughed even louder, until the one in the middle stopped to stare. "Who are we looking for again? Some girlie?"

The one on the left cocked his head to the side quizzically, then turned to stare too. "That Miss Delaney the Commodore is so wrapped up about."

I could feel my face paling at his remark, and was suddenly brought back to the attic in the maid's room, where three pirates had been looking for me there. It felt an awful lot like déjà vu, except this time I wasn't hidden above there heads, and I didn't have Jack to save me.

Blasted! Why did he keep intruding my thoughts at the worst time possible?

"Wot she look like?"

"Brown hair, blue eyes, tall…" All three men gawked at me intently. "I'd say she fit's the description."

Before I could so much as blink an eye, the middle one had grabbed me by the shoulder and yanked me up, bringing me nose to nose with him. "I think she's the one."

And once again, I was captured. Three against one; not very good odds.

"Miss Delaney! Thought you could escape?"

I twisted myself into a position to see the oncoming, crackling voice, only to realize with a terrible shock it was…Barbossa. Not but ten feet away, and wielding his sword treacherously, a nasty smile plastered to his face.

"Wot you want?" asked the pirate on the left after a pause.

"The girl. Give her too much, or--"

Barbossa never bothered to finish his sentence, for, once realizing that I wasn't going to be free unless I did something, I had brought my knee up to the groin of my captor, making him loosen his goliath grip on my shoulder. Elbowing him in the stomach, I struggled out and pushed my way past the three pirates into the street and ran for my life.

I wasn't sure _how_ I had just escaped, but I didn't really care. My mind was too blinded by fear and determination that I failed to hear anything other than what I chose to hear. All that mattered was that I somehow find a safer spot to rest, while magically avoid both pirate crews.

The air was stuffy from the plumes of smoke that rolled across the town in waves, making it even harder to breath than it already was. Fire illuminated the dark sky, and I was gravely reminded of Armageddon. In all respects, it felt like the end of _my_ world.

Then, just as I had turned a corner to evade _another_ group of pirates, I collided with a small figure, sending us both hurtling to the ground, me hitting my head on a barrel.

"Ow," I moaned, sitting up slowly while rubbing my head.

"Sorry," the other voice mumbled.

My eye darted over to the person across from me, only to see Ella, who was rubbing her own head tenderly.

"Ella?"

She looked up, just as shocked, but a gigantic grin spread across her face, and she tumbled into my arms to give me the hardest hug possible. "Finn!"

"Hey! Here she is!"

Both of us scrambled up to face a large group of pirates, and I couldn't help but think this was getting very old. "They're after me!" we both cried in unison, but glanced at each other oddly.

"There after you?" we both asked again, while backing farther down the street as the pirates advanced. After one more look, a mixture of amusement and fright, we nodded. "Run?" Ella asked, though she really didn't need an answer.

"Run."

We sped off, leaving the stunned pirates in the dust. Dodge here, duck there, swerve to the right, jump over that bush, don't let them see you if you can help it. Breathing was becoming more of a labor for me, but all I could do was hold onto Ella's hand and run.

It was and odd sensation. I was with Ella again, and despite the fact that we were now trying to avoid pirates in the eighteenth century, it felt very normal. Just us two, running, just us two having an adventure again.

We stopped behind a secluded stable, both to catch our breaths, but I began to laugh. Not cry, which would have been more realistic. After all, I was finally reunited with my best friend after years of thinking she was gone forever. No, I laughed. I didn't know why; there was nothing remotely funny about the situation I was in, but still I laughed.

Ella joined in too, and we collapsed on the ground, tears streaming down our faces. It seemed to go on for eternity, as if we were at high school again, laughing about some ridiculous joke. Actually, it was a very suitable thing to happen. We never cried when together, why cry now?

At this moment, we were not two young women, wanted by pirates and in the middle of a dangerous circumstance; we were two teenagers again, just enjoying being together. It really wasn't very odd at all.

"I can't believe it's you!" gasped Ella, holding her side. "Oh my! I have such a horrible stitch!"

"You're speaking--like some--old lady!" I answered, which only sent us into another fit of giggles. Gunshots and screams were heard, but farther away than expected, and never entered our own little world that had just been created.

"Do you think they'll find us?" she whispered once both of us had calmed down.

I shook my head. "Not for awhile. Let's just wait."

Ella grinned and lean back next to me. "I though you were dead."

"I thought _you_ were dead. I didn't think I was going to ever see you again."

"Suppose we're just lucky?"

"Probably."

"Whatever happened to you?"

"Some old Admiral picked me up. Then I got suck as a governess for some snooty lady."

"You taught the snooty lady?" Once again, we laughed, clutching each other for support.

"No, no, I taught her daughters, who are quite pleasant."

"Now who's talking like an old lady?"

Another fit of laughter.

"My word, my corset is killing me! I would love to sue whoever invented this death-trap." Histerical laughter once again.

"Than take it off."

"I can't! I'm going to make myself faint from all this laughing."

This of course only made both of us laugh harder.

"How did you get wrapped up in all this?" Ella asked. "The chances of this happening are…"

"Don't do the math," I mumbled. "Don't remind me of school. And I don't have the energy to start explaining now. I can't imagine where to begin."

Ella chuckled. "We haven't changed at all."

"Nope. It doesn't even feel like we've been gone that long."

"I know. It just feels like another weekend."

We sat back in silence, breathing heavily, but beyond contentment. I couldn't help but think this was the best day of my life.

Heavy footsteps ruined it though, coming from behind, not twenty meters away, and we both shot up, alert and awake. A long soldier peeked his head around the corner, and upon seeing us, jumped slightly.

Neither of us bothered to see if he was friendly. We ran.


	25. Captures and Confessions

AN: A thousand apologizes for taking so long to update, but school as been absolutely horrendous to me. However, I am now making it up to you for publishing the longest chapter yet, (seventeen pages long, mind you). I really did not want to mess this chapter up, too many important things happen in it, which accounts for the amount of time I spent writing it. I would love any reviews or suggestions, as usual. (Oh, and sorry that I had to split the action into two chapters, if that did bug anyone. Obviously, the chapter would have been extremely long, and I didn't feel like testing the maximum capacity of the document loader.)

And once again, enjoy.

* * *

"Aha!"

It was Elizabeth, and as predicted, the hook had successfully knocked the keys off their hook, and dragged them to the cell. Never mind it had taken a better part of an hour.

"Thank heavens!" exclaimed Clarissa. "Let's leave!"

"Agreed," muttered Elizabeth as she unlocked their cell. The door swung wide with a echoing creak, but neither women paid any mind. It was clear that the crew was gone, and Belmont had neglected to leave any guards.

"Once my father hears of this…" began the daughter, but Elizabeth heard no more of Clarissa's rant once they had stepped onto the deck. Large, orange flames framed the buildings, sending out vile smoky smell. She nearly screamed, but suppressed it.

"Oh my…" said Clarissa, as she came up behind Elizabeth. "Oh…oh no! My father!"

"Don't worry Clarissa, I'm sure he's okay. I doubt very much this had anything to do with your father."

Clarissa wasn't listening. Any composure she had kept during their confinement was let go, and she was reduced to helpless sobs. "My father! They're going to kill him!"

"Clarissa, _come on_."

Elizabeth, with great force, dragged her companion down the gangplank and crept down the docks. It was dark here, and the few men that were there at the moment were not pirates. She stopped at the edge of the town, not quite willing to actually enter the burning inferno in front of her. Clarissa was still mumbling hysterically.

"We need to go to my mansion. Arielle and Isabella are still there with everyone else, who knows what they're thinking at the moment!"

"No, no, I want to go to my mansion!" cried Clarissa. "We need to call for the soldiers!"

"We've just been imprisoned by Belmont! Do you really think the soldiers are going to be on our side?" hissed Elizabeth, ducking behind a building as a group of men came toward them. "Listen, Clarissa. We just need to get to my mansion, then we can go to your house. They are right by each other, so don't worry."

Clarissa wasn't listening. Instead, she was rocking back and forth, weeping profusely, biting her knuckles.

Elizabeth wanted to scream. Why now of all times did she have to lose her senses? "Clarissa, get up. We're leaving now." Clarissa didn't so much as raise her head in acknowledgement. This was ridiculous.

So Elizabeth hit her. It wasn't hard and wouldn't leave a bruise, but Clarissa definitely noticed and stared at her friend indignantly. "You _hit_ me! How dare you hit a lady! How crude! How…barbaric! Elizabeth Turner, I cannot believe--"

Elizabeth bent down again and slapped her on the cheek. "Do _not_ lecture me right now. We are in danger, and need to _leave_. Come to your senses, Clarissa!"

"Ladies are not suppose to hit people," continued Clarissa in a hurt voice. "I never knew you were so brutal…"

"Damnit, Clarissa!" yelled Elizabeth stomping her foot. "I do not have time for this! You may _not_ do this! _Get up_!"

This outburst seemed to awaken Clarissa, even if it was in fear. Getting up as commanded, Clarissa obediently followed Elizabeth into Port Royal, clinging to her like a lost child. They kept an even pace, jogging through the streets, watching the carnage in horror. Women were running around, shrieking, searching for their children. Men were fighting gallantly against the attack, and Elizabeth was rudely reminded of when Barbossa had first attack the colony.

Yet it seemed very unlikely that only Belmont and Dawson could wreak such havoc alone. And there were the soldiers, surely they were not behaving like this?

She decided that another ship was certainly attacking as well: there were just too many men, and too many pirates to be Dawson's crew. And Elizabeth had a creeping feeling that this other pirate was Barbossa, unfortunately without any proof.

Soon, and with enormous amounts of luck, Elizabeth and Clarissa came to the Turner mansion, which (for reasons that Elizabeth couldn't understand) remained untouched. She frowned. Something wasn't right.

"Elizabeth, come on! We need to get to my father!" cried Clarissa, grasping her companions arm and pulling with all of her strength. Elizabeth swatted her away, still looking at her mansion.

"You go on, Clarissa. I need to go to my home and make sure everyone is okay."

"I'll get shot!" she shrieked. "You'll keep me safe! You know what to do in these situations! You're the brave one!"

"Just keep your senses, Clarissa, and run. You're going to be fine. Look, its not even on fire."

"Elizabeth! Help me!"

Elizabeth, who was about to scream from frustration and stress, picked up a large stick that happened to be laying next to her. "See this? If anyone comes running toward you, just wave this in front of you like a sword. If that doesn't work, then hit them over the head with it. Understand?" And with that, she shoved the stick into Clarissa's hand and sprinted toward her mansion, hearing the faint moan from Clarissa.

The way was dark, and she came safely to it, peeking through the shaded windows, tapping softly incase anyone was there. "Robert," she hissed, after circling the house once, and now standing at the door and knocking quietly. "Robert if you're there, open the door."

Silence.

Elizabeth stepped back and stared at the large oak slabs curiously. Where was everyone? She placed her hands on the handle hesitantly, but mentally slapped herself for being so cautious. This was _her_ house. She need not worry.

As she went in, an audible, echoing creak came from the door, and Elizabeth shivered. There certainly was nothing right about this situation, and for some reason, she desperately wanted to leave. But with the wildness surrounding her, there was one thing she needed to retrieve.

Will's heart.

Elizabeth tiptoed up the stairs to her bedroom. It had been very…odd, having Will's heart with her. It was not something she had ever kept before, and technically, should never have to keep. Medically speaking, the fact that his heart still could beat wasn't possible, and even though she had seen his heart cut out, and then see him live again with her own eyes, it was still a very big idea for Elizabeth to wrap her brain around.

She opened the door to her closet, grabbing a coat to cover her freezing figure, and unlocked the safe in the back, where the chest lay. It was as black and mysterious as when she had first seen it on the sandy beach with Jack and Norrington, but now it held a different thumping heart. Strange. Twisted. Elizabeth could never understand what she felt like when she saw the heart, so she looked at it as little as possible.

Taking the key from a chain around her neck, Elizabeth unlocked the chest and looked inside slowly, grimacing at the sight of her husband's heart laying there pumping up and down steadily. If only she could put it back in...make him whole…

But no, she was the guardian, the sole protector of her beloved's heart. Nothing, absolutely _nothing_ would happen to it as long as she was alive and breathing. Taking it out, she transferred it to a small sack from inside the coat. This way, it would be less bulky and less noticeable to carry around. And she would always know where it was, right next to her own heart in a hidden pocket.

She stepped out and looked around at her empty room. Someone had been in here; pillows were tossed into places they were not originally been, and her jewelry box was opened. Something was definitely wrong.

Then there was a slight creak, and the door to her room opened a fraction of an inch, showing a single eye looking at her incredulously. "Robert?" she asked softly. "Robert, is that you? If it is, come in." She went forward and pushed the door open a bit more…only to feet the cold, hard metal of a pistol at her throat.

It was Pintel, someone Elizabeth had entirely forgotten about, but was once again capturing her, the same action that began her original adventures.

"'Ello, poppet. I reckon the captain would be mighty pleased to see you."

* * *

She was gone. Vanished. Out of thin air. Richard had heard people talk of such experiences, mostly involving missing children, but never thought that it could happen to him. Yet here he was, running helplessly around, trying in vain to find his beloved Ella.

But there were so many; so many women, so many pirates, so many soldiers. The large mass that seemed to sway in time, preventing him from ever locating the one person he wanted. The shadows from the bonfire created by someone was being very little help either, only skewing his sense of direction and enlarging things that were in reality very small.

Screams were a constant stream, and Richard had began to block them out. He pulled out his pistol to fire at an oncoming pirate, hitting him square in the stomach. Throughout his navy career, he had seen terrible, bloody battles that could send anyone to the mad house. But this…this was chaos, utter and absolute hell. He didn't know who his allies were. And what exactly was he fighting against? Too many variables had been tossed in the same place at once, causing nothing less than an uncontrollable explosion of terror and insanity.

Worst of all, Ella was gone.

* * *

Jack had not been prepared for what he witnessed as he flew through Port Royal, trying to find Finn. Why in the world did she have to run away _now_?

He recognized much of Barbossa's crew, but many of the other pirates he was not familiar with. What had happened while he was in the ball? Of course, it had to all be Barbossa's fault…

A screaming lady interrupted Jack path, and he swerved sharply to avoid her. Port Royal was an absolute mess right now, more so than he had seen it ever before. Odd as it was, the only thought running through his mind was Finn, and whether she was safe. Who was she with?

And for that matter, who had she left with? Jack whipped out his sword to fight two oncoming soldiers, but barely paying attention to the movements that his body knew so well.

The men Finn departed with had been not recognizable, granted they did have masks on, and he had only seen them through the window, but still.

Jack easily rid himself of the two men and continued his fruitless search, which unfortunately allowed him to explore his thoughts; running had become so much of a reflex it hardly took thought.

To say the least, he had damaged his relationship with Finn to extremes, primarily by using her as a bargaining chip. The chances that she would ever accept him again were miniscule, but that wasn't going to stop him from trying. Jack still thought she cared about him, after all she had admitted it so long ago on the deck of the _Flying Fortune_; feelings like that did not just vanish into thin air, that he was sure of.

But because this was Finn; she was not going to admit that openly. Because this was Finn, she would try and deny it, hide it, keep it safe because she did not want him knowing the truth. And, odd as it was, that's what made her so likeable. Jack couldn't understand why, nor did he ever expect to, but it was the truth.

Now, it was his mission to fix that, and he realized with a twinge of fear that it was certainly taking position above finding the Fountain.

A large, brute pirate came charging toward from behind a cart, and Jack lifted his sword and smacked him with the hilt of it, sending him reeling into the street. He needed to somehow make Finn understand, or somehow prove to her that he, for once, was not lying about…loving her…though it was still hard for him to understand it himself. A hard task to undertake, and possibly impossible, but it would be worth it. Then he could find the Fountain. If things didn't work out between him and Finn, he would kidnap her until she did understand. Easy. Why had he been so unsure of himself a moment ago?

But then again, Finn would not appreciate being kidnapped…again. That she had made very clear. But he, _Jack Sparrow_, would be doing the kidnapping. Finn would understand eventually. It would work out, it always had and it always would. Finn just didn't stand a chance. Not against him.

* * *

Huffing and puffing, Dawson shadowed a tall, villainous man dressed in a skeleton costume, who he was sure was Barbossa. The descriptions of his demeanor and voice fitted perfectly with the man in front of him, and Dawson was determined to make his own mark upon him.

After all, he was the one who had the _Black Pearl_, was he not? That ship had a legend all of its own, and the chance to have it for himself was too much to refuse. Of course, Dawson would have to deal with the equally famed Jack Sparrow, but that couldn't be hard, considering he had supposedly lost his ship twice already.

"Pintel! Ragetti! What are you doing?" roared Barbossa as he slashed to men in the stomach. Dawson backed up against a wall to hear the exchange, and saw two men dragging between them none other than Mrs. Elizabeth Turner. Dawson frowned and looked back at his ship. So they had escaped. The Commodore would be less than pleased with him.

"Look wot we found, Cap'n!" cackled the taller one gleefully. "The poppet!"

"I have a name, and I _know_ you know it," growled Elizabeth as she jabbed him in the stomach fruitlessly. "And you don't have to hold me so tightly, I'm not going anywhere."

"It don't matter," croaked the balding man. "But now guess what we have!"

"What?" snarled Barbossa, knocking out an approaching soldier.

"That key and map! Remember?"

Barbossa spun around, eyes bright with greed and smiling mouth evilly radiant. "Ah, yes, I had forgotten. Excellent. That means I have both the ruby key and these. Men, I suggest you start rounding everybody up to go back to the _Flying Fortune_. And I suggest you take Mrs. Turner with you."

"Barbossa, I demand to know what you are referring to," ordered Elizabeth. "To kidnap me for no reason at all--"

"Appreciable attempt, Mrs. Turner, but I know you too well to believe a single word that is pouring from your mouth at this moment. Pintel, Ragetti, take her to the ship and lock her in the brig."

"NO!" shrieked Elizabeth, but Dawson was off before he heard anymore.

So, the ruby key, the Commodore's key, was now on another ship, the _Flying Fortune_. The name fitted the situation.

He arrived at the docks, and searched for the ship, but could find it no where. Now, that was odd…

"You there, man!" growled Dawson, pulling aside a particularly grimy fellow whom he did not recognize to be his own. "Where is the _Flying Fortune_ docked?"

The man stared at him for a long time before finally opening his large mouth and saying, "I don't know you…"

Sighing, Dawson took out his pistol and placed at the man's temple. "Let's try this again. Where is the _Flying Fortune_?"

"A mile along the beach, in a cove. Just walk along, you can't miss it."

"Thanks mate, I'll be seeing you--"

BANG!

"In hell." He blew away the wisps of smoke from his pistol and carelessly dumped the man into the water. "Sorry, but can't have your tongue slipping."

Cackling, he ran toward the beach, toward his fortune, and toward his destiny.

* * *

We were off, but at less than Olympic speeds, due mostly to our general weariness, and the fact that my corset was successfully suffocating me.

"Ella…we need…to…slow…down," I gasped, clutching my stomach desperately, stumbling clumsily over a loose plank. "I…really…can't…breath." Black spots were flickering across my line of sight. Not good.

"Finn!" she cried tugging at my limp arm. "I know, but we need to hide somewhere safe!"

"Just…let me…catch…my breath." I leaned against a brick wall, burning from the furnace that surrounded us, and which was making me sweat profusely. Looking down the street, I saw havoc, flames licking the sides of buildings greedily, consuming the houses and valuables thoughtlessly. It was a horrid, terrifying sight that could, despite the heat, chill a person to the bone, make them wonder how humans could possibly be capable of such work. Port Royal would never be the same again, and if it wasn't for the Fountain, it would have never changed.

Ella looked as bad as I felt, hair hanging limp, shoulders drooping, cherry red from the heat, and breathing heavily with excruciatingly tired eyes. "Finn, we need to keep running."

"I…can't." Looking at her helplessly, I slid down to the ground trembling slightly. "This…is my…fault."

"What are you talking about?" demanded Ella. "You're being stupid." She put her hands on her hips for emphasis, staring down at me, frowning in disagreement.

"The…key. And the…map. If I had…never taken them…from Connie…we wouldn't…even be here. We'd…be in college somewhere." The constant talking and unloading of the burden I had carried so long was making my breathing come easier, and I continued as Ella watched me, her defiant posture becoming more feeble and defeated. "I would be studying archaeology, and you would be studying…something…"

"Medicine," filled Ella, softly, looking scared and worried.

"We would have met nice boys, eventually married them, and lived in some nice suburban area with good schools and three kids apiece. We would have traveled the world, seen Italy, seen Spain, seen England…"

"Stop it Finn! This is stupid. Stop it!" Ella leaned down and started shaking me fiercely. "Don't say those things!"

"No, it's true. I never meant to have anything happen, but it did! If I hadn't taken that _trash_, we wouldn't be in the situation. We wouldn't have been separated for four years wondering whatever happened to the other! We wouldn't be in danger of being killed by pirates! I wouldn't be having…these ridiculous issues with this or corset…or with…uggh!" I slammed my fists on the ground, tears escaping from my eyes.

Jack, why did I have to think of him? Why did it seem he was so important?

"I want to go home! I want to get away from everyone here! I need…I don't know! I always wanted an adventure, and here it is, practically given to me on a silver platter, and I _HATE IT_!" I was screeching at this point, the pitch making my own ears ring painfully, banging the ground frantically, crying passionately. Very few times had I ever reached this point in my life, and I could feel my self-control steadily slipping. "_I want to LEAVE! I want to go back home, where I was safe, and I knew exactly what was going to happen with my life! I want to get away from Jack!_" My hand flew to my mouth as I realized what I had said, knowing that I honestly didn't mean that, but too stubborn to actually agree with myself. I _did_ want to leave him. I wanted _nothing_ to do with him. That was the truth, wasn't it?

Ella was staring wide-eyed at me, white faced and shaking slightly, her hands coming away from the ears she had been covering. "Finn…it's going to be okay," she assured softly, patting me on the shoulder. "We're together again, and we're going to be fine. We are going to make this the best time ever. Understand?"

"How?" I asked weakly, my voice cracking, my previous fury rapidly diminishing.

"Because we always did. And we always have. Why should this be any different?" She hugged me tightly, and I breathed out slowly, composing myself again.

Ella was right. Everything, somehow, was going to be okay, even if we did become separated again. As she retreated back, I wiped my nose and eyes, smiling slightly. "Thanks. Sorry for the meltdown."

"It was waiting to happen," she answered dryly, but smiling as well. "I think you needed to do that anyway. You okay now?" I nodded silently, blushing from embarrassment. "Come on. Let's leave."

I stood up, with the help of Ella, and we both peeked around the corner. "No one is coming," I noted, still wiping my face dry.

"But the street is packed. Look at all those men running around! Pirates. And soldiers."

"We're safe here…"

"No, someone is bound to find us," whispered Ella as a couple of men came closer. "We need to leave."

"Where are we going to go? Elizabeth's house is out of the question, Barbossa made that his hideout. The governor's house is under attack, see that? They've set it on fire. All the shops are being ransacked…the only place we can go is the forest, and Barbossa's ship is in there."

"So is the _Pearl_!" exclaimed Ella. "We can go there and be safe! I bet none of the other pirates know where it is!"

I glared at Ella, though not intentionally, but said nothing. I really, really did not want to agree with her, but what she said was true; Jack's ship was probably the safest place to go at the moment. The thought of being anywhere near that scoundrel made me cringe, yet there was a certain excitement that was rising as well, one that I forcefully was pushing down.

"Finn, what do you think?"

"I think…we should go there. You're right, it's safe, even though I really wish there was another option…let's go before I think about it too much. But we can't stop, we'll just run. It will be faster that way."

Taking a deep breath, we went out onto the street and started running toward the forest, ignoring the action that was happening behind and on all sides of us.

But there were too _many_ things happening. Smoke was everywhere, fogging my vision and making me cough uncontrollably, which, of course, only made my breathing harder with the corset. People were scampering this way and that, screaming, shouting, shrieking, crying. Gunshots whizzed past my ear and behind my head as I tried to keep up with Ella, who was steadily leading us both by more and more. Now she was five feet, ten feet in front of me.

I tried to call out to tell her to stop, but my throat was dry, and I couldn't yell anyway, I had no air. I couldn't run anymore or I'd pass out.

A group of men with muskets marched in front of me, cutting me off from view of Ella. I cried out, but all that I could hear was a scratchy, cracking sound that was suppose to be my voice.

Another gunshot, another scream.

The last man with a musket went by, red and sweaty, just like everyone I saw.

And Ella was gone.

* * *

Ella was running, too afraid to stop, too afraid someone would see.

And she didn't notice Finn wasn't with her until she had to swerve to avoid a tumbling wall, and reached out for her friend, only to cling to thin air.

It was a terrible, frightening moment. Where had Finn gone? One minute, running next to her, the next…gone. Just gone.

Ella spun around where she stood, squinting through the dense smoke that permeated the air, trying to recognize the many shadows that surrounded her. She had promised Finn everything was going to be okay, and now she had lost her.

If anything, Ella knew she had to find Finn.

The forest was only two hundred meters away; a sprint she could do in thirty seconds. But Finn was still deep in Port Royal. Ella wasn't about to abandon her now, not when they had finally found each other again.

She turned around, tears threatening to come, and began shouting for her friend, her voice becoming more hoarse by the second. Faces appeared, smoky and abstract, figures running hazily. Everything that was happening couldn't be real. It was too strange, too weird. Normal people didn't have things like this happen to them, and last she checked, Ella had felt very normal.

Leaning heavily against a barrel, she rubbed her face. The smoke and sound was getting to her; she couldn't even think clearly. All that mattered now was finding Finn, and she couldn't let her thoughts distract her.

Suddenly, she felt someone grab her dress, the golden one from the masquerade, and drag her behind them. Ella struggled, only to have three pairs of arms wrap around her, restricting her movement and her mouth.

It was the Commodore, grinning vilely, the soot and ash smeared over his once handsome, now wickedly diabolical, countenance. She screamed, but only a muffled murmur could be heard.

"Miss Bronte, what a pleasant surprise."

Ella struggled wildly, digging her finger nails in to the hands that bound her, but all in vain. The grips of the three, hulking men were relentless, and her attempt at freedom only caused Belmont to laugh harder, and terrible, high cackle.

"Take her to the _Hildegard_ and lock her in the brig with Mrs. Turner and the governor's brat. She'll make good company. And round up the remaining of the crew while I hunt down Dawson. We're leaving now."

* * *

I clutched my throat in a panic. I could hardly talk let alone breath. I hated my life right now.

Thankfully, I had enough sense in my head to remember that I was in grave danger for my freedom, and ducked into the nearest store, which was still being wildly ransacked. However, the men were too occupied with the looting to see me scamper into a back room.

I fell to the floor, holding my stomach painfully, clawing at the ties that bound me, but it was no use. The knot was too tight and swollen from my previous swim. So instead I laid there, staring blankly at the ceiling, focusing at first on breath steadily, though black dots still appeared in front of my eyes.

It took a few minutes before I could think straight and sensibly. So I was once again alone. Ella was gone, again. The only safe place I could go to was Jack's ship, which also happened to be, as I stubbornly reminded myself, the last place on earth I actually wanted to be. Where in the world could I go?

The earlier eruption of mine had faded away forever, and now that I looked back at it, I was exceptionally ashamed of the way I had handled it, though, I reasoned, I rarely had such emotional problems, so of course I wouldn't know how to act. Whatever the case, it had been rather childish and stupid. Not to mention it had made me think about things I'd rather not consider…

No! Not now! I can't think about him! I need to get to safety!

And at the moment, the _Black Pearl_ seemed to be the only safe place to be.

I sat up almost screaming in frustration. No, no, no! "You never want to see him again!" I whispered to myself, rocking back and forth. "He is a dirty, terrible, rotten, obscene pirate that sold you for his own ship! He's a criminal! A…villain!"

I hit the floor forcefully, trying to make myself believe what I was repeating. But the way he had looked, his expression as I was taken by Barbossa, was clear in my mind, and it didn't look particularly mean or cruel, but sad and…regretful? No, Jack Sparrow was hardly regretful…

I stood up, panting both from lack of air and immense frustration with myself. I needed to run and forget. That's all I needed to do. I would worry about this some other time.

I rushed out of the back room into the street, squinting through the sheet of smoke. The pirates were as rambunctious as ever, but it appeared they were more concerned with looting the area than wasting their time to look for anyone. I decided, hesitantly, that I would be safe if I were to just walk to the forest, or at least jog instead of a full out sprint. Especially since I had hardly enough energy to do such an endeavor.

All most instantly I bumped into someone, and backed away quickly, fearing the worst. But it was Richard, and when I had recognized him, I threw my arms around him gratefully, surprising him, since he didn't know who I was.

"Ella? No…Winnie! Good gracious, I thought…never mind."

"Oh, Richard, I'm so glad to see you!" I cried, laughing till tears came. "Please help me! I'm scared, so scared, and I've lost Ella!"

Richard grasped my shoulders tightly, face excited and frightened. "You've seen Ella?"

"Yes, but when we were running--"

"Hurry!" insisted Richard, now towing me forcefully along with his long strides. "We need to find her! Belmont is looking for her!"

"Belmont?" I shrieked, grimacing at the memory of only a few hours ago. "Why would he want her?"

"The key of course! The same reason he went after her in the first place!"

"But she doesn't have it! Barbossa does! He showed it to me!" I yelled hoarsely above the ruckus surrounding us as we ran.

"What? Ella doesn't have it?"

We stopped and looked at each other for a split-second. "Belmont is going to be furious," I whispered, though it sounded like a weak rasp, and Richard asked for me to repeat what I had said.

"You're right," he answered, once he understood what I had said. Suddenly, his eye lit up, then rapidly darkened as he clutched his sword hilt.

I turned around to see Belmont striding across the street, towing Ella roughly behind him as she screamed like a banshee. He hadn't noticed us, thankfully. Richard stood there, shaking in anger, but looking at me worriedly. "Go after her!" I insisted.

"But are you going to be safe?"

"_Go_!" I screamed, pushing him forward. Looking back painfully, he nodded and went after Ella, once again, leaving me alone.

"Right," I mumbled under my breath, but all that came out was an indistinguishable croak. Great.

I stepped into an alleyway tiredly, looking up at the sky. Richard was after Ella, so I just needed to wait and hunt them down later. Everything would work out.

Too weary for tears, I slid down the wall and sat, just breathing, though that was work enough. My throat was parched and dry from all of the running, and it felt like daggers were rimming the inside of it because of the smoke. Every breath was an effort, cutting into me jaggedly. I needed water.

"Well, well. Wot do yeh know."

I lifted my head up slowly, glaring up at the three men who were grinning maliciously down at me, pirates, from the looks of it. This was becoming _very_ old.

"Go away," I said bluntly, or at least tried to say. All that came out was a hoarse dry sound that could hardly be considered words. Their grins widened as I felt my throat. I had lost my voice completely; I couldn't scream for help.

I scrambled up, only to have all three jump at me, grabbing my upper arms and pinning me to the wall. Naturally, I attempted to struggle, but by this point all I could do was wiggle around a bit before I was too worn out to do much more. "Let go of me," I ordered helplessly.

They guffawed stupidly, thankfully able to hear what I had said. "Yeh think yeh can order us 'round like dat, missy?" I stared at the men, glaring daggers, which of course only made them laugh harder.

They seemed familiar, and with hopes of distracting them, I asked, "Do I know any of you?" I felt like I was screaming the words, but it was nothing more than a whisper. Thankfully, the men heard it.

"Course, we's all with Barbossa."

"Right, I should have known," I thought, smiling slightly. They were a little taken aback at this action, and one of the grips loosened. I flung my arm away from him and kicked the one on my left in the shin, making to run off, only to now be pinned to the ground.

"Thought you could get away, eh?" they cackled. "Now we's a gonna be having our way with you." A fat, prickly face bent down to my own, smiling to show a row of rotting, vile smelling teeth. I screamed, or tried to scream. The other two men laughed loudly as I struggle under their grasps.

No, this was not happening. Not to me. I only heard stories about this in the news, on Oprah, from teachers. This wasn't happening.

My mouth was open in a perpetual silent scream as I kicked and bit and fought, trying to get away from this horrid creature that was stroking my cheeks with cruel hands. I prayed like I had never prayed before for someone, _anyone_, to save me.

BANG!

Dead weight fell onto me as the large man collapsed, his evil eyes going blank in an instant. I could hear fighting around me, swords clanging rapidly, but I focused mainly on removing the massive hulk that was trapping me. After a few moments of shifting and pushing and shoving, I was able to wriggle my way out.

I stood up to watch the ongoing fight to see who my savior was.

Jack.

Even with the shadows dancing around, hiding faces and expressions, it was clear who the jaunty figure was, facing both men with his one sword with expertise I didn't know he possessed. I could hear him chuckle as one man tried to lunge at him clumsily, which he easily avoided, and at that moment, he looked up and we locked eyes.

I couldn't breath. Mostly, I credit this to, once again, the corset and the previous struggle, but the sight of seeing Jack as the man who had saved me certainly left me in a state of shock. I watched him dispatch the remaining two men quickly, my senses blunted.

He sauntered over and wrapped me in his arms, and for a terrible moment, I thought he might kiss me, but instead he smirked. "Still getting in trouble, luv? What would you do without me."

I frowned and brought my had up to slap him for his insolence, but he caught it skillfully and trapped it. "That's not the way to receive your rescuer, darling."

"That's Miss Delaney to you!" I shouted. Once again, nothing more than a raspy whisper.

Jack grinned, even daring to laugh a little. "Whatever happened to your lovely voice? It sounds like you've tried to eat gravel."

"I've been running for my life the past few hours, breathing smoke! What did you expect?"

Jack cocked an eyebrow, still holding me fast. "You should have come with me, luv."

"Don't even start!" I shrieked, struggling hard.

Jack tightened his grip and caught my chin in his hand forcing it up to look at him. I stared, hardly breathing. We were only a few inches away, and I could smell his breath again. I closed my eyes trying to block everything, regain some sense, but I couldn't concentrate.

"Don't start what, luv?"

Opening my eyes, I glared, but decided not to answer.

"Do you still wish to never see me again?" Jack glanced pointedly at the three dead men lying to the side.

I wanted to answer, some witty remark or comeback, but I just stood there with my mouth open, blushing furiously. It was true, if Jack hadn't shown up when he did…and that excited feeling was coming back, especially as I looked at him…

Scared, I tried to move away. No. This was not going to happen.

Jack, unfortunately, noticed my reaction. "You're panicking. Now, why would you panic about ol' Jack, hmm?" He forced my face closer to his, staring at me intently.

Usually, I am very good at keeping my emotions in check, but tonight I seemed to have lost all control of them. Whatever I was feeling, for I couldn't figure it out myself, or at least refused to recognize it, was written clearly on my face. I knew it was, no matter how much I wished I could just wipe it away.

Jack saw it. I could see it in his eyes, a mix of triumph and joy and mischievousness. This time, I really couldn't breath, and it certainly wasn't because of the corset. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but I cut him off hurriedly, not wanting to know what he would say. "Let go of me."

"No. Not now that I finally caught you." He smiled as if that were the best statement he had made all night.

I decided to try again. "I can't breathe."

"Sorry, luv, I know that trick…" he murmured leaning closer. He was only an inch away. This was _not_ going to happen.

"Jack, I can't _breathe_."

He stopped, hearing the desperation in my voice. He stepped back, never letting go, however. I pointed at my corset, gasping for fresh air. That had been _too_ close, and my head was a jumble, not able to think clearly. Not to mention the barrage of butterflies that were in my stomach. And it seemed like I was about to float away, or my head was in the clouds. Not good.

Jack, of all things, was laughing as I tried to sort out my thoughts. "A corset. How convenient."

This statement brought me back to the conversation at hand. "Convenient?" Black spots were in my vision again, and I grabbed his shoulders to stay up right.

"You won't be able to fight."

I didn't like his tone of voice.

"Fight?"

"I'm taking you back to the _Pearl_, luv." Winking he snatched my waist and flung me over his shoulder.

As he had said, I certainly couldn't fight in the state I was in, and his shoulder was jutting into my stomach, making it almost impossible to draw a full breath. This didn't stop my trying to remove myself, however.

"_Jack Sparrow_!" I screeched. "Let me _down_!"

"Sorry, dearest, but no."

"Dearest? What in the world makes you think you can call me your pet names? After what you did to me! You sold me like I was a…a…a possession!"

"I doubt I could ever actually posses you, so have no fear of that." The laughter was clear in his voice, which only made me angrier.

"Put me down this instant!"

"I believe we had just discussed this, luv."

"Miss Delaney."

"I intend to call you whatever I please."

"I won't allow it!" I said forcefully. This conversation was taking a very annoying turn, for I didn't like being contradicted, or lose what little control I had. Both were clearly happening.

Suddenly, Jack flung me down from his shoulders into his arms, smiling roguishly. "Try and stop me."

All I could do was stare dumbly at him, not able to find any retort. He was…impossible. Unpredictable. There was no way I could possibly begin to comprehend what was happening inside his head, or what he was going to do next. First, he practically kidnaps me (it was somewhat voluntary, I will admit), then trades me for the _Black Pearl_, and now here he is coming to my rescue, saying he never wanted to leave me in the first place.

"As much as I love your avid attention, I think we should both focus on first leaving Port Royal."

I gasped, blushing for being caught staring, though I hadn't realized I was doing it. Jack simply smiled broadly, his gold teeth glinting devilishly, with a look that said he knew exactly what I was thinking. I looked away, mad at myself for being so obvious.

"Winnie!"

A shot was heard, and suddenly Jack dropped to the ground, sending me sprawling.

I screamed and looked at Jack, who remained motionless, ignoring the man who was quickly approaching. My face was white and I was shaking as I scrambled over and took his head. "Jack! Please, don't be dead!" With my raspy voice, I sounded like a banshee.

"Winnie! Are you o--?" It was Richard, who had now seen Jack. "Oh…oh no…"

I jumped in fright as Jack suddenly sat up, laughing, explaining, "He didn't shoot me, but if he was an enemy, I certainly wasn't going to look alive." He stood up, grabbing my hand and pulling me up as well. "Though I'm glad to see you _do_ still care about me."

He was still smiling triumphantly.

I looked away at the ground.

"I'm sorry, Captain Sparrow, I thought you were…well…not…" began Richard, but Jack cut him off.

"No time, you may apologize later, maybe with a bottle of rum as well, but we have more pressing matters at hand."

"Where's Ella?" I interrupted loudly in my screechy voice.

Richard's jaw tightened. "I couldn't get her. We need to leave now, to follow the Commodore and get Ella."

"And who made you Captain?" growled Jack.

I turned on him glowering. "If you don't go and rescue her, I swear--"

"While your concern is absolutely understandable," continued Jack, ignoring me, "you must realize that the Commodore is also searching for the Fountain, just as I am. And since I now have one of the keys and the map, he will of course eventually follow me, along with Ella."

I frowned at his statement, firstly because he was clearly not going to go to Ella's rescue, and secondly because he said he had the key and the map. Of course he didn't, _I_ did.

And that's when everything made sense.

Why he had bothered to rescue me.

Why Jack wanted me to go with him.

Inside, I was hurt, betrayed, for I knew that faintly, I had been holding on the hope he might actually, truly care what happened to me. Obviously, this was not true, but despite this I kept my mouth shut and face blank. There wasn't time to fight now, and frankly, I was sick of fighting at the moment.

Richard was having none of this excuse. "How can you not--?"

"Quite easily, actually. You may go off and rescue her all by your onesies, however, _I_ am going to be off for the Fountain of Youth, and along the way will probably see your beloved, in which case, I will attempt a rescue."

They looked at each other steadily for a few seconds, Richard fuming, Jack smiling slightly. Finally, Richard said, very grudgingly, "Then I'll come with you."

"Knew there was still hope for you yet; there's pirate in all of us."

"Only for Ella," corrected Richard.

"Then let's be off!" Jack exclaimed, beaming at the two of us. Grabbing my wrist, he started running down the alleyway toward the forest. I was too tired to bother taking my hand away, and I focused on keeping up with his spry pace. Richard followed behind, still grumbling mutinously.

Almost immediately, black spots appeared in front of my eyes. Air wasn't getting to my lungs, no matter how hard I breathed. It seemed that the corset was becoming tighter and tighter. Objects appeared fuzzy and disoriented, then suddenly snapped back into focus. More than anything, I wanted a drink of water and to stop running.

"Jack…slow down…" I gasped faintly. "I can't…"

He couldn't hear me of course; I could barely hear myself. The forest was looming ahead, and suddenly the air became cooler as we exited Port Royal. I tried pulling my hand back, to make him slow down, but Jack simply pulled harder.

I would like to note that I have never ever, _ever_ fainted before under any circumstance. I am not a person to get in such a state of shock easily, and am rarely that fearful or surprised of anything.

This time proved to be an exception. The last things I remember was the sand in my mouth and thinking, _How humiliating_.

* * *

Belmont stared up at his ship regally, trying to drown out the incessant screams of Ella, who was now wrestling ferociously with three soldiers.

He had been searching for Captain Dawson, however, the man seemed to have vanished, though his crew remained. He was somewhere, though Belmont could not imagine where Dawson could possibly ran off to.

An impatient sigh escaped his lips as two officers ran toward him. Belmont had sent them away half an hour ago to try to find the evasive pirate captain one last time. He obviously wasn't there.

"Sorry, Commodore, but we can't seem to locate Dawson," said one of the men.

Belmont nodded. "Very well. Is most of the crew here?"

"Most, sir."

"Round them up and prepare to cast off."

"But, sir--"

"Those who are not here now can be left, we won't need them," replied Belmont sharply.

"And Dawson?"

"He was nothing more than a pawn, and can be easily disposed of. Dawson holds no importance any longer."

"And what of the criminal, Miss Delaney?"

Belmont couldn't help smile at his own brilliance of convincing his men that Winifred Delaney was in fact a traitor of the English Crown, along with Eleanor Bronte. "The two girls are dear friends. No doubt when she hears of Miss Bronte's imprisonment, Miss Delaney will come to her rescue."

The two officers nodded obediently, running off to do their duties.

It was twenty minutes later that Belmont was on his ship, beginning to sail out of Port Royal harbor, confident that he would soon have the keys to his fortune.

* * *

Dawson emerged soon after the _Hildegard_ left port, clutching in his hand the ruby key. It had taken longer than he suspected, but his search was worth the while, and he never ran into Barbossa.

Dawson looked out to sea, watching the Commodore sail away. So, he must have captured Miss Delaney after all; why else would he leave? All Dawson needed to do was follow, and then the treasure would be his. Smiling greedily, he began to call to his men telling them to return to the _Midas_.

Not long after the _Hildegard_ disappeared into the dark, the Midas left Port Royal, leaving the town in ashes, and its captain equally sure he would soon have the keys to _his_ fortune.

* * *

It had been frustrating, chopping his way through the unyielding forest surrounding Port Royal. Not to mention he had to tow Mrs. Elizabeth Turner with him, who was, naturally, proving to be more of a hindrance than a help. But after one gruesome hour, Barbossa finally approached the _Flying Fortune_, excessively grumpy.

However, he now possessed the map and key. Both keys, to be exact. Sneering at Elizabeth as Pintel and Ragetti shoved her across the gangplank, he followed, strutting, something that rarely was seen. Soon, the Fountain would be his.

"Men, cast off! I want to be across that horizon by morn!"

The crew jumped to follow the orders, and he continued his path down to the brig where Elizabeth was now being placed, with her usual cries of protest accompanying it. As he entered, he watched with amusement as she slapped Ragetti defiantly, with Pintel, with the best of his abilities, pushing her into the cell.

"Mrs. Turner, please contain yourself. No harm will come to you. We've had too much of a history together to possibly think of that."

Elizabeth glowered at him as the door slammed shut. "What do you want with me?"

"You already know. And you also know, I don't enjoy playing games. Don't test my patience." This was said with a fake, gentlemanly smile.

Elizabeth's countenance hardened. "If you are referring to Winnie's map and key, Barbossa--"

"That is it exactly."

Elizabeth frowned. "I don't have them."

Barbossa stared intently, his face becoming darker and darker with each passing second as Elizabeth matched is gaze. "Don't have them?" he finally spat.

"Why would I have them? Finn wore them around her neck, she showed them to me. I've only seen it once."

"Around her neck?!" roared Barbossa. "That scheming, lying, sly little brat! She tricked me!"

Of all the things! How could he have been so foolish? He should have seen right through her act, her charade! Yet, despite his anger, there was an underlying respect for this Winifred Delaney whom he knew so little about. If she was clever enough to trick _him_, than she was certainly not someone to be foolish with. Very few women had those types of smarts, and the only ones he could think of at the moment were his mother, Elizabeth, and, though she was terribly annoying, Ella.

"Very well," said Barbossa after a moment. "So it can be assumed that you are utterly useless to me right now." Elizabeth gripped the bars, ready to say something, but Barbossa continued. "However, I can always use you as a hostage. I imagine you will come to use later."

"Captain! It's the _Flying Dutchman_!"

Barbossa looked toward the sound of the voice, hearing the booming splash indicating Will's arrival.

"Barbossa, please, let me out," begged Elizabeth. She had lost all formality and composure, now reduced to pleading desperately.

The pirate Captain stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Pintel, release her, but keep a firm grip and don't let her escape. Follow me."

The appeared on deck, and instantly, Will was next to them. When he saw Elizabeth, his eyes widened, and he rushed toward her, but Barbossa placed a gun to her temple, stopping him in mid stride.

"Don't come a step further, Turner. I want to talk."

"About what, Barbossa?"

"I need you to find Winifred Delaney."

"The one who was supposed to be dead? Why?"

"I need the key and map, the ones I originally asked for you to look for."

"Ella asked, not you. And the key belongs to her."

"She already has a key," said Barbossa. "Actually I have it now." Will raised an eyebrow. "Pintel go and retrieve my box on my desk, so I can show Master Turner what I am referring to."

Pintel rushed off to do this bidding, returning quickly with the plain wooden box in hand, giving it to Barbossa. Smiling, he opened it, then roared with anger.

It was empty.

"Which one of you cowards stole the key?" he roared, bearing his pistol seemingly. The men were deathly silent. "Well?"

"None of us knew where it was, Cap'n," offered one of the men. Barbossa nearly shot him for his insolence, but a thought occurred to him.

"Winifred, of course," Barbossa muttered, mostly to himself. "Men, surely you realized we were not the only pirates attacking Port Royal tonight. Did it happen you recognized any of the other crews?"

"Well, I know the soldiers were the Commodore," said one voice.

"Yeah, I 'eard that 'e was looking' for that lady who was 'ere with us before."

"No, I 'eard a couple men sayin' they was looking for another lady, that Ella Bronte."

Barbossa stared at the two men. "Looking for both of them? There seems to be something I am not aware of, though it appears the Commodore is now seeking the Fountain as well." He began pacing, having Ragetti hold the pistol to Elizabeth. "One of them must have the key, they were the only other ones who ever saw me take it out and put it back; I shouldn't have been so careless. And one of them must be with the Commodore. Will, I have a proposition."

"What is it?"

"You find the Commodore, retrieve which ever girl is with him, and bring her to me, or keep her on your ship, I don't care, and I promise that Elizabeth will be safe."

"I want Elizabeth with me."

Barbossa took the pistol and pressed it into Elizabeth harder. "If you don't, I assure you the consequences will be grave. You know it is not beyond me."

Will stood there, staring painfully at his wife. "Not one man it to so much as touch her, or I promise--"

"I take that as a yes, then, Master Turner?"

Will glared daggers at him, almost snarling. "It's a deal."


	26. Say You Love Me

AN: Well, here is the next chapter! I had it done sooner than expected...and I hope I got it right...anyways, I'd love reviews as usual, and I'm curious to know what you think about this particular chapter...

And once again, enjoy.

* * *

The first thing I remember was the sharp pain around my stomach, which I quickly identified to be my corset. Breathing slowly, I decided that it was just as tight as ever, which made me terribly frustrated. Why wasn't this contraption off yet?

Though I knew I should open my eyes, I still was not fully awake, more in the state where you certainly are not asleep, but dearly wish you were, and are willing to believe as such for the longest time possible. So my eyes remained shut.

Where ever I was, it was warmish, more so toward my left side, and I was on something relatively comfortable and squishy. Yawning regally, I turned to the left of me and moved toward the warmer part, for some reason thinking I was in my old bed at home, and it was a winter morning, and I was not quite ready to get up. Any moment the alarm clock would go off, sing Christmas songs…

Then the warmish thing moved.

I tensed up. I certainly was not in my old bed, nor was it a winter morning with Christmas songs to wake me up. Cracking my eyes open painfully, I peeked through to see a figure resting peacefully, a hand behind the head and another draped across the stomach leisurely, tickling my arm as the figure breathed. Then suddenly, they turned their head to look at me, the dark eyes amused.

I screamed.

It wasn't very loud, but more of a frightened shout, like one would do at a horror movie. The figure, as I had instantly realized, was Jack. The squishy thing was his bed, and he was laying next to me.

He consequently tumbled off his bed, holding his ears until I stopped.

I sat up quickly, staring at him accusingly.

"Heavens, women, what possessed you to screech like that?" he bellowed. From his response, I gathered he must have just woken up. Jack usually wasn't this grumpy.

His attitude did throw me off balance, and I blinked a few times before I gathered an answer. "I…um…what am I doing here?"

"I told you I was taking you to my ship." He was still kneeling on the floor, glaring at me.

"Why am I _here_?" I asked again.

Jack smirked. "You fainted. And, being the gentleman I am, I decided to put you somewhere more comfortable than those nasty hammocks."

"Your _bed_?" I hissed.

"Most comfortable place on the ship, luv."

I narrowed my eyes before rearranging my seated position. "Whatever. What time is it?" I had looked out the window, and seeing a semi-dark sky, assumed it must almost be morning.

"Hm…probably around dusk."

"Dusk?" I asked incredulously. "It can't be!"

"You'll find it can. How long did you think you were running?"

"Um…maybe an hour or two…"

"Try at least four. At least. The pirates left Port Royal in ruins, and you can't do all that in a couple of hours."

"Four hours!" I whispered, mostly to myself. "That means…let's see, I arrived at the ball around ten…running until two in the morning! Or more!"

"I'm not surprised you slept as long as you did. After all you _did_ faint…though your voice sounds immensely better."

Though I tried not to, I blushed at the mention of fainting. "That will be the only time you ever see me faint, I assure you."

"Don't worry, luv, I am accustomed to having women faint into my arms."

"That hardly impresses me," I growled. "Now, I would like to remove the thing that caused my fainting, if you don't mind. I'm on you ship, so you don't have to worry about me fighting and whatnot."

"Indeed," he responded, smiling wickedly as he stood up, removing a knife. I stuck out my hand to take it, but he stared stupidly at it, until he understood the gesture. "_You_ aren't going to try to get yourself out of the corset, are you?"

"Of course. I'm not going to let _you_ do it."

"You'll cut yourself. I guarantee it."

"Watch me," I said, frowning as I grabbed the knife from his hand.

Honestly, it shouldn't have been that hard. The cord was thinner than rope, and should have been easy to slice through. The angle wasn't weird; in fact, it was an excellent angle to cut from. All in all, I should have had that corset off in a minute at the most.

But he was watching, and I could feel it. The thought of having his eyes on me was unsettling and making my head spin, and I did the worst possible thing: I looked up. His dark chocolate eyes were penetrating, intent and sharp, staring unashamedly back into my own. They weren't amused or laughing, which was odd, nor were they at all lustful or hungry. No, they were much deeper than that, something so much more deep.

I was so unnerved, I could hardly breath, and both hands were shaking visibly.

And, of course, I cut myself.

"Ouch!" I hissed, cradling my thumb. It wasn't a deep cut, but certainly was bleeding.

Jack chuckled softly and took the knife from my hand. "Just as I said. Now quit fidgeting and let me do it."

Utterly humiliated, I glared, a long fuming look, at him, but it of course had no affect. "Lay down," he ordered.

"No!" I stated, pushing him away. He pushed back, flattening me onto my back. "Get off!"

"Do you want this corset off or not?"

"I can do it myself!"

Taking my injured thumb, he studied it mockingly. "Apparently not. Now, hold still, don't squirm, and it will all be over in an instant."

I was about to tell him what exactly I thought about the situation, but it quickly became apparent that I had no power when he pinned my arms down with his knees and effectively began undoing the binding.

Wonderful, new, fresh air poured into my lungs, and I took the first full breath in nearly a day. It was sweet, amazing…I can't even begin to describe what I was feeling at that instant. It was like going without food for a day or two, then finally being served roast beef with potatoes and carrots. It was like baking out in the sun for five hours, then finally being able to take the coldest shower imaginable. It was just that good.

"There," he muttered.

"Thanks," I answered, sitting up. We looked at each other for a moment, but I couldn't seem to keep my thoughts focused. So I tried to stand up, but he pushed me back down.

"We need to talk, luv."

"About what?" I asked warily. A thousand ideas popped into my head, all of which I quickly squashed, and praying that my thoughts were not evident on my face.

Jack, being who he was, raised an eyebrow at my obvious discomfort. "About the map and key, which I know for a fact you have."

One would think I would feel infinite relief at this statement.

Instead, I was angry. Fuming. All the hurt, the pain, the betrayal came pouring back. I could feel my usually calm eyes turning to an icy blue as I glared at him. "Oh yes, I almost forgot. How could I?" The comment came out more like a snarl than actual words.

Sensing the outburst that would be coming, Jack backed up, watching me warily. "Whoa there, luv. Calm down. All I want is the map and key. Don't worry, I'm not going to do anything else to you. I promise."

"That's right! The key and map. That's the _only_ reason you wanted anything to do with me. How _could_ I forget _that_?"

"Finn, darling, calm down!"

I sprang out of the bed, standing rigidly, shaking and on the verge of tears. But the pain was so overwhelming, that, just as last night with Ella, I couldn't seem to control myself. "Did it ever occur to you that there are other people in this world? That we don't all bow down to your wishes?!"

"Luv, sit down!"

"NO! How could you be so thoughtless…so…so heartless as to completely disregard me? I hated being trapped with Barbossa. Hated it! All for the sake of finding your precious Fountain! It's like…like…I was an object! You didn't care what happened to _me_. You still don't!"

At this point, I was beyond tears. All that was in me now was pure rage, something I had never experienced previously, for no one had ever made me feel this way before.

And I knew why, though truth was heart-wrenching, terrible, and wonderful at the same time.

I loved him. Beforehand, my common sense was telling me this was bad, very bad, and I tried to ignore it. People like him and people like me never mingled for very obvious reasons. Yet, the feeling was undeniable now. I didn't know why; he was a rascal, a pirate who had proven again and again that treasure was all he cared for. But I couldn't help the feeling. I loved Jack so much that it hurt.

And I knew he didn't care about me. How else could anyone explain why he had treated me so carelessly? No sensible person would.

This was the reason I now stood, trembling as all of these emotions coursed through my cold body, breaking my heart yet giving me strength.

Jack, the wise man he was, had retreated back behind his desk, keeping a solid buffer between us. I hadn't dared to truly study his face during my shouts, but now I did. His face was screwed up into something between a frown and a grimace, eyes wide with shock, staring at me like I was a mad-women. He wasn't far off the mark; I felt rather crazed and disjointed.

Finally he spoke, a soft murmur that I could barely hear him. "You're wrong."

"Wrong?" I hissed. "When you insisted that I should come help you save your pathetic excuse for a ship, you only asked that because you wanted the map and key. Do you deny it?"

His face visibly darkened, and for a moment, I thought he was going to jump at me, but all he did was answer a simple, "No."

"No," I repeated, dangerously soft. "At least you have the decency to be honest now!" Looking down at my chemise, I tore through the patch that held the key and map, Jack watching curiously, but cringing as I held them up. "And I suppose you still want them?"

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, his hands moving this way and that as he changed his mind. "Well…yes."

"Then you can _have the damn things_!" I shrieked, hurtling them through the air toward his head. "_Take them_! It's all you ever wanted anyway!"

He ducked, cowering under his arms until both passed over him and crashed into the wall behind. I collapsed onto the bed again, quivering as my temper vanished as quickly as it had come, leaving me pale and weak, staring blankly at the floorboards. I had accepted what I had been trying to forget, and it still hurt, but my anger had made it numb. More than anything I wanted to cry my heart out, tell Jack what exactly I was feeling, but it was too dangerous. I was too scared. He had already bruised my heart without knowing; but bruises can heal. If he knew the truth, he would only break it; breaks never heal perfectly again.

Without looking up, I walked blindly over to the door, reaching out to take the handle.

"Don't leave, Finn."

I turned and stepped back from the intense stare that Jack now looked at me. His eyes looked almost black, and his mouth, of all things, was curved into a small smirk, and the shadows dancing across his face made him more intimidating. "I think I need to leave," I said.

"Oh no, we need to straighten a few things out first."

"Straighten what out?" I asked hesitantly.

He crept over, as if not to frighten me, his heavy boots thudding against the wood planks slowly. "I don't just want the map and key. In fact, I hardly care about them anymore."

"You're lying."

Jack cocked an eyebrow, not annoyed, like I thought he would be, but amused. "Prove it."

"I have plenty of proof." He was right in front of me now, and I was fleetingly reminded of the first time I entered his cabin on the sloop, and instinctively, I reached behind me for the handle.

He stopped my hand, pinning it against the wood of the door. "Say it then," he challenged.

My mouth went dry, and I licked my lips in a desperate attempt to think of something, yet nothing came to my mind. I backed up until my back was against the door. Jack followed, standing only a foot away. "You once said you cared about what happened to me," he muttered. "It hasn't changed."

It wasn't a question, but a statement, like Jack could see right through my mask. I didn't answer, afraid of what would come from my mouth if I could speak.

"Can you deny that?"

My face went pale again as I tried to flatten myself next to the door. Jack came closer, and our faces were less than six inches apart. "Well?" he pried softly.

"Jack…" I moaned. I was defeated, that much was clear. He knew exactly what I was feeling. Why was he making it so miserable for me?

His arms circled around my body, capturing me to his chest firmly, his warm breath washing over me. "Kiss me," he whispered.

"Please…no…" I begged, clutching at his shirt, yet there were obviously two conflicting wants. I couldn't kiss him; I was too afraid to attach myself to him, and emotionally, it was too dangerous. But it was what I wanted more than anything.

He ignored my plea and gently forced my chin up, and my body literally melted into his arms as he kissed me. It was gentle at first, his thumb stroking my cheek; then it turned more passionate, almost desperate, and he clutched me tightly, not letting me go, refusing to release me. Warmth spread through my body, making my skin tingle pleasantly, and at that moment, I forgot everything but the kiss.

It was a conscious decision. I _wanted_ to forget everything, pretend there had never been a before, and that there wasn't going to be an after. So I let him hold me, kissing back, griping his shoulders for the support I needed.

He took my face and began kissing my cheeks repeatedly, muttering something that I couldn't understand, then kissing my neck, running up and down with hot, reckless kisses, then kissing me full on the lips again, still clinging me as forcefully as possible.

Kisses and more kisses, it was a blur of kisses and heat and whispers I couldn't quite hear, going on and on…until, suddenly, I became afraid. Very afraid.

Jack sensed my abrupt change in mood and stopped, breathing heavily watching me carefully. "What's wrong, darling?"

"No," was all I could force out of my mouth, once again shaking violently. I licked my lips and continued painfully. "We have to stop."

"Don't say that, luv," he whispered, kissing my cheek again, and then again, trailing his mouth down to my neck.

"Jack, stop," I begged, pushing him away. "I can't keep doing this."

He paused before looking at my face, but holding me firmly against him. "Why?"

I stared up at his face, so perfect and dark, and for a moment, I couldn't speak, couldn't say what I had to say. Sensing my weakness, he place another softer kiss on me before I stopped him again. "You're just going to break my heart," I sobbed, wiping away the few tears that had come.

"Now, why would ol' Jack do that?" he cooed, brushing the tears I had missed.

It took all of my self-control to not break down and cry my heart out. "Jack…I'm just…scared. I just…" I turned around to face the door, or at least tried, but Jack forced me toward him.

"Listen to me Finn. There have been many gorgeous women in my life, all of whom…I…ummm…."

"That isn't helping your argument," I replied cynically. "In fact, it's proving my point."

"Let me finish," he demanded. "They may have been beautiful, but that's all they were to me. But with you…I can't even begin to explain. Maybe its because you aren't shallow, that you use head…I mean, you aren't drop dead gorgeous, but you actually have a personality! That's what I want!"

I looked at him silently, trying to believe what he was saying.

Actually, I did believe him. I had spent enough time with him to figure out when he was being completely truthful and when he was bending it slightly, or just flat out lying. Jack was definitely telling the truth.

But, as far as I could see, he only _liked_ me for who I was. Like wasn't enough, not for the way I was feeling.

Jack was still watching me, and must have seen some doubt cross my expression, for he let go of me and kicked his chair, which was behind him, making me jump in shock. "Why are women so difficult?" he groaned, probably to himself, then turning to me, asked, "What do I have to say to make you believe me?"

I had never seen Jack loose composure. He was rather intimidating, but for once he looked sorely defeated and confused, breathing heavily, his eyes questioningly me silently.

"Say you love me," I whispered.

"What?" He blinked, frowning slightly. In that blink, he had completely collected himself and once again looked like the Jack Sparrow I knew, the one who was sure of himself.

"Say you love me," I repeated.

Jack's eyes studied my face, and he seemed to be suffering from an internal conflict. Coming toward me, he grasped my shoulders, opening his mouth several times than shutting it after.

Then, taking my hands, he brought them to his face. I could feel my heart speeding up, and I held his hands tighter. Looking at me seriously, he started, "Finn….I…I…"

Suddenly, the door behind me opened, and turning around, I saw Richard and Gibbs standing there, both with worried expressions that quickly turned to shock and embarrassment.

"I think I should go now," I muttered, taking my hands away.

"Right," Jack said, but before I could leave, he grabbed my chin and kissed me again lightly. "Good night, luv."

"Cap'n, I'm sorry for…uh…well, we heard loud noises, and Rich wanted to make sure that…well… fumbled Gibbs as he ringed his shirt.

"Just keep to your watch, Gibbs. And find a suitable dress for Finn before she freezes."

"Yes, Cap'n. Come along, Miss Delaney."

I followed Gibbs as Jack closed the door, blushing and trying to wipe my stained cheeks. But Richard held me back, motioning for Gibbs to continue. "What did he do to you?"

"Nothing," I answered. He wasn't swayed and took my arms gently.

"I swear, if he hurt you…"

"No, nothing bad happened. I'm fine, I promise."

"Very well," he sighed, letting me go. "I suppose you ought to follow Gibbs. He has a bunk ready for you. And are you feeling okay?"

"Richard, I just said--"

"I meant from the faint."

"Oh…yeah. It was just the corset."

"Your voice is sounding better."

"Yeah, it is. Goodnight."

Richard took my shoulder again. "If you ever need anyone to talk to, I know I'm not Ella, but…"

"Thanks. I'll remember." Smiling kindly, I hugged him, then followed after Gibbs, who was waiting patiently below deck.

I couldn't go to sleep. There were too many things to think about, but the one that was most prevalent was, if Gibbs and Richard hadn't appeared when they did, would Jack have said it? I couldn't forget his face as he looked at me so truthfully…and the kisses…

Sighing, I turned over and tried to ignore the lightheaded feeling I had, yet trying to remember the warmth I had felt, for it had seemed so right.

* * *

Jack couldn't seem to sleep either. He laid there, glaring up at his ceiling.

Why hadn't he been able to say it right away? When he was kissing her, that was all he could mutter, but Finn hadn't heard him. But when she asked him to say it straight to _her_...Three simple words: I love you. That was it. People did it all the time. Why wasn't _he_ able to?

The only conclusion Jack could come to was that he was scared. Just like Finn was. But for a vastly different reason.

Finn didn't want her heart to be broken, and so she was hesitant to admit anything, though it was clear enough from the way she had looked at him.

Jack, on the other hand, did not want to break her heart. He still remembered the screams and the look of fear on her face when Barbossa took her away, and Jack knew that, if he were to ever leave Finn, they would be ten times worse, and twenty times more painful. And it wasn't that he wasn't willing to endure them again; it was he couldn't have her so hurt, and be the reason for it.

For the fact was he loved her; more than treasure, more that even the _Pearl_. And like his ship, to see Finn in pain would be the worst thing that he would ever have to suffer. He did not trust himself not to hurt her.

He sat up, as a brilliant idea struck him. Trust. Jack just needed Finn to trust him. Then, once he did tell her that he loved her, she would know it was the truth. All he had to do was somehow prove that he wasn't going to break her heart.

Smiling contently, he laid back down and stretched languidly. It would work. Jack didn't need Finn telling him that she loved him; he already knew. But he could convince her. It would happen.


	27. Rescue

AN: Hello again! Look, I've updated after only a week! That's a vast improvement...

Anyways, this is, in a way, a transition chapter. It was suppose to happen with CH25, but timewise, it doesn't happen till after CH26, so I decided to place it here. Anyways, because I have homework, and need to get to bed, I must apologize profusely, for you are going to be reading the roughdraft that I wrote in an hour. Hopefully, I will come back to edit, but I dearly want to continue with the rest of the story, and just wanted to get this out of the way...

Anyways, suggestions would be good on how to improve it.

Enjoy.

* * *

"Commodore! There's a…a…ship! It's coming from the water!"

Belmont, at the excited and frantic shouts from his crew, rushed to the railing to witness the strangest thing in his life. A gigantic, rotting ship was now making its way toward his own warship, dripping still from arising from the ocean.

His breath caught in his already parched throat. Naturally, as a sailor, he had heard stories of this ship, the ship of Davey Jones. The hundred years of service if you were not already killed. Running his hand through his graying hair, Belmont faced his men.

"Ready the guns and load your muskets! We have a fight on our hands!"

Ella sat in her cell, her chin resting comfortably on her knees. That was the only thing comfortable about the situation, however. The floor was a mass of decaying hay mixed with foul smelling water, and the cell itself was cramped and musty.

She sighed, a deep, weary sigh that echoed around her. It had been a long night, and a long day…and another long night. At least, she assumed that was the time frame, considering she had no windows to show her otherwise. Of course, Ella had slept, what little she could catch between the loud shouts of raucous laughter and gun shots from the crew. For a navy vessel, they had become very undisciplined…almost criminal. She wondered how many of them were aware of the Commodore's plans…and how many supported him.

It was cold and dingy, and after a sudden wave of shivers, Ella stood up. No good was being done just sitting there moping. There had to be a way to escape. Had to be.

After all, two girls before her, Elizabeth and Clarissa, had escaped. Ella could almost hear Belmont's furious roars at the discovery of their disappearance, in that anger hitting her across the cheek and splitting her lip.

So maybe she did provoke him with the pointed comment that he was stupid enough to _not_ to have posted some guards to watch them. But it had been obvious enough…

Her moment of distraction was wiped away as distraught shouts reached her ears. It was the soldiers, no doubt suffering from terrible headaches from the night before. Ella wondered what could possibly cause them to be acting like this…until it occurred to her that Belmont had finally found Finn.

Now, she had no idea what had happened to her best friend, but wherever she was, Belmont certainly did not have her. That meant only a few choices: either Finn was still at Port Royal, trapped again with Barbossa, or Richard had found her and taken Finn to the _Black Pearl_. While she felt excessively guilty at the action, Ella smiled at the thought of her reunion with the captain. Finn had obviously been rather distressed about Jack, and it was rare for her to ever lose control like she had. Whatever the case, it must have been rather interesting.

"Get the girl!"

The shout had been from Belmont, and it was high pitched and frantic. Now, what girl was he talking about? Finn, whom he might have discovered, or herself?

The question was soon answered for Bella as a familiar face came through the doorway, outrunning two soldiers red faced soldiers. Turning around, he whacked one across the face, sending both tumbling to the floor, giving him time to rush over and unlock her from her cell.

"Captain Turner!" she gasped, gawking unabashedly at him. "Why…what…how…?"

"Explanation later," he gasped. "We need to get you out of here."

"No duh!" Ella laughed, leaping happily into his arms and squeezing him tight in thanks.

"No…duh?" he repeated with a frown.

Ella couldn't help but giggle. "Sorry, it's just slang."

"Right…we need to leave. Now."

Taking her hand, Will led her up the stairs, the two soldiers hot on their tail. They appeared in a terrible, messy scene of smoke, blood, and screams. But Ella kept her mouth shut, though she dearly wanted to scream, and followed Will across the deck as quickly as she could, wincing as a stray bullet whizzed past her cheek.

"_Get the girl_!" roared Belmont once more, and Ella turned to see him charging her, blade out and slicing at anyone, soldier or not, who dared get in his path. The sight made her faint of heart, and quivering, she stumbled forward.

Will, however, was entirely cool-headed and whipped out his own blade to point at the Commodore. The officer stopped, and much to Ella's surprise, lowered his weapon slightly.

"Do you know who I am?" asked Will quietly. The commotion between the crews had stopped once it was apparent that the captains were confronting each other, and all eyes watched the scene intently.

Belmont opened his mouth a few times before glaring openly at Will. "Everyone knows the story of Davey Jones and the _Flying Dutchman_; at least, any respectable sailor. What do you want with this girl?"

"First of all I am not Davey Jones. He's dead."

"He can't die. That's why people fear him so."

"You will find that he can, and is. I killed him."

The Commodore's eyes twitched slightly at the blunt comment. "Then who are you?"

"Captain Turner."

Raising his sword to chest level, Belmont lunged suddenly, running his weapon smoothly through Will's exposed chest, then, pulling it out with difficulty. Ella shrieked in terror at seeing her rescuer come to his knees with blood spilling out. Smiling, Belmont whispered, "And I suppose you can too."

Then, just at the loud laughter from the navy had died down, Will stood up, wincing, but wiping the blood away all the same. "Actually, no. Not right now. If you knew the legend like any respectable sailor, you would have known better than that."

Belmont was white as a sheet, watching stupidly as Will put his sword to his throat. "What do you want with the girl?" he asked quietly.

"To rescue her," Will answered simply. "I am not going to allow her to be subjected to such evil treatments and men such as yourself. Men," he called, now addressing his crew. "let's leave. We have some business to settle with Barbossa."

"You assume to much, saying I am an evil man," growled Belmont. "You hardly know me."

"The few men I do know that have kept women prisoners were pirates. I can only assume you must be the same type," replied Will bitterly. "As for your own business with Miss Bronte, I could care less."

"I do believe it is the same as yours," answered Belmont.

"If that is so, I suppose we will eventually meet again. And be careful; I don't take kindly to true criminals," Will warned softly. "Lets leave."

Ella was led onto the _Dutchman_ quickly, and she couldn't help but smile triumphantly over at Belmont as she sailed away from the wreck that his ship was now. The _Dutchman_ had been merciless during the attack, and the once proud and speedy _Hildegard_ would obviously be much slower now. She was safe.

However, there was a distinct problem. Will had previously been traveling under the water; this not only added to stealth, but greatly increased speed. But now with Ella on board, this was not an option, seeing as she was not part of the crew.

And it was quickly realized that while a threatening and dangerous ship, the _Dutchman_'s strength did not lie in speed, and despite her damages, the _Hildegard_ was able to keep up from a distance, always in sight.

This hardly concerned the Captain, though, and Ella remained quite content for the remaining day, except for three questions that continued to disrupt her thoughts. Now, she hardly knew Will, only in passing, but he was friendly, and the two were quickly friends. So she had no problem in asking as the sun set.

"How did you know where I was?"

Will smiled. "I belong to the ocean. I know many things because the ocean tells me."

Ella raised her eyebrow at the vague answer, but decided to not press the subject, seeing as she would probably not understand him even if he went into detail. "Why did you rescue me?"

At this Will became somber. "Please do not judge me, but it was not at all for your benefit, though of course I would not want you coming to harm. I don't know how, but Barbossa came across Elizabeth. I only came to him because…the ocean told me she was with him. But I didn't believe it. Of course, when I saw her…"

"There was an attack on Port Royal," explained Ella softly. "Both me and Finn were caught in it, though I don't know what happened to her."

"Yes, the Barbossa wanted me to rescue whichever girl was with the Commodore in exchange for Elizabeth. He seemed to believe one of you had the key he wanted."

"The ruby one? I haven't seen that since Barbossa took it from me."

Will sighed. "Then Winifred must have it."

Ella frowned, thinking deeply before talking again. "I don't think so. You see, at Port Royal, we were both running away from the Commodore because he wanted to kidnap us."

"He thought you had the key he wanted."

"Yes, but Finn wasn't running away from _Barbossa_. She was more worried about the Commodore. If she had the key, shouldn't she be afraid of Barbossa as well?"

Will furrowed his brow. "Maybe you are right. All of this is confusing me terribly; I wished I hadn't come in the middle of it all."

Ella laughed. "I'm sorry, though I do have one more question. You are going back to Barbossa, right?"

"Yes, to get Elizabeth. I hope you don't mind…I mean, both you and Winifred seemed to have been used no more than bartering tools, and I feel horrid--"

"I've dealt with Barbossa before," answered Ella. "I don't think he will kill me, just lock in that dingy cell again."

"I can try to keep you on my ship. I imagine I could, seeing as I am invincible."

"In that case, let me finish my question. After Barbossa, where are we going?"

"Following Jack."

"Why?"

"Don't you want your friend back?"

Ella laughed again. "So, she is with him."

"Why is that funny?"

"Oh, no reason. I just can't wait to hear her opinion on the matter. I still can't forget the names she called him…"

Will stared at her blankly, then after remembering, laughed as well.

Ella sighed happily as she looked out to the water. Things seemed to be going well, and she could almost kiss Will for his idea in rescuing Finn. Soon, they could be together again and safe, away from all of this. If there was one thing she remembered it was when Finn had screamed, "_I always wanted an adventure, and here it is, practically given to me on a silver platter, and I HATE IT._"

At this point, Ella couldn't agree more.


	28. Final Confessions

AN: I am pleading for forgiveness from all of you for not updating for so long! For those of you who didn't read my profile, or my new story, I was having an insanely hard time writting Finn and Jack. They were being ridiculously stubborn, and couldn't seem to find anything to talk about (apparently, discussing relationship problems is not a virtue of Finn). But, enlightenment hit yesterday night, and I came up with this chapter! I'm hoping I kept the characterization correct (Finn keeps surprising me with new things), but I'm pretty happy with the way it turned out. And it finally bridged the gap between the hectic chaos at Port Royal and the rest of the story, so and am sufficiantly pleased.

As always, enjoy!

* * *

The next two days were utterly miserable for me.

It wasn't the weather, which was perfect. And it wasn't the crew, who was more than accommodating toward me.

It was Jack.

I suppose more of it was my fault. After the incident in his cabin, I couldn't find the courage to talk to him again face to face. And he didn't seem to want to press the matter, which was extremely uncharacteristic of him. So, for those two days, I moped and debated and slapped myself a couple of times for being so _stupid_.

What really topped the whole ordeal off was that I could feel Jack watching me. And it wasn't creepy watching either, but careful and attentive, as if waiting for me to make a move.

I would have talked to him, but at the moment, my head was in shambles. How did I feel about this man? I knew that I loved him, something I just couldn't understand. But the biggest problem was, why did he care anything for me? It wasn't like I had thrown myself at him…the exact opposite, in fact. And my common sense was telling me that to have any type of emotional attachment to this man was stupid. The other, the biggest problem, now that I bothered to think about it, was our time difference. I was from the United States, 2007. Jack was from now, eighteenth century. If there was a way I could go home, which was possible if I just figured it out, then I would go. First chance I got. And Jack couldn't follow.

If only I could have had more romantic experiences during my high school life…but there had not been any boys who had me smitten in any way, shape, or form to give me experience. And now, I was being thrown together with a man who was the very type my parents had always warned me to stay away from. I was in a very bad situation.

Then, on the third day, Jack finally confronted me.

Now, I had been expecting this from day one (which was probably the reason for my incessant moping), and as I sat in the galley late that evening, picking thoughtlessly at the stew in front of me, I felt very little surprise when he sat across the table.

"Finn."

"Jack."

He sighed. "I am aware that the past few days have been…stressful for you. But if you're still mad at me about trading you for my ship…I'm sorry! I don't know how else I'm suppose to say that…"

"It's not that. Anymore." I poked at a green lump in my stew, wondering what vegetable it was suppose to be.

We sat there in silence. "Then what is it?"

"I don't know."

I couldn't look up at him. Everything about this situation was too awkward, and all I wanted to do was disappear.

"You don't know?" Jack's voice was quiet, and almost dangerous. I risked a peek up. He was watching me wearily, an expression I had never seen before. Then, suddenly, he smiled. "Maybe I can help."

His tone of voice was that of a mischievous child, and did nothing to encourage my hope. Holding up his compass, he took my hand and had me hold it.

"Your compass," I stated. "Your compass is going to help me?"

"Points to whatever the holder wants most." He looked down for a moment before looking back up. "I don't tell very many people that."

I wasn't sure if that statement was meant as a warning, or as a compliment to how he trusted me, but either way, it had captured my curiosity. Yet, I was hesitant, in more ways than one, to open it in front of him. Things like this were personal, and I was a private person by nature.

"Open it," he prompted after a long silence. Jack appeared too eager for my tastes, and I backed away well out of his view before opening it a crack.

It was spinning.

"I think it's broken," I muttered, tapping it gently. Jack frowned and took it from me. He opened it all the way, stared, and frowned even deeper. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, luv."

"Is it broken? Did I break it?"

He glanced back down, shook it, swallowed, and looked back up, an odd glint in his eye. "No, it's not broken."

I was terribly tempted to look over the table to see _where_ the compass was pointing toward, but stopped. First, I didn't want to be a hypocrite…and I was afraid of exactly where it was pointing.

Instead, I reached out and snatched it from his hands to hold it again, setting it down on the table. It was still spinning. "Is it suppose to do that?"

Jack leaned over, and grinned. "Only if you don't know what you want. I wasn't aware you were so indecisive."

I scowled and looked at the point again, spinning like a windmill. I could hardly see how this was going to help my situation; seeing my own internal conflict in physical form was only making me more frustrated, as if to solidify the fact I could not decide what was to be done. Almost as if it was mocking me.

Looking up, I saw Jack watching me curiously and fidgeting, something I rarely saw from him. It occurred to me that he wanted desperately to say something, but either thought it beneath him, or found it too awkward. Well, I can hardly stand silences such as that, and finally asked, "Is something wrong?"

"What is _it_?"

I furrowed my brow. "What is what?"

Jack sighed, the signs of embarrassment written across his face. "What are the…things?" He tapped the still moving point.

My face began to blush, and I looked down at the table, but raised my eyes slightly. "Why do you want to know?"

A frustrated breath escaped his mouth, and he too glanced away for a moment before coming back. "I just want to know. Damnit, Finn! You haven't talked to me for two days! I want to know what's going on in your head!"

I was more than startled from Jack's sudden outburst, and sat up, studying his every feature with a certain amount of trepidation. His eyes were dark and aggravated, the large hat tilted just so it shadowed the top half of his face. Most of his body was leaning toward me, not threateningly, but forcefully, obviously willing me to give an answer. Jack wasn't accustomed to begging for things, that much was clear, yet he knew that he had to do exactly that to get anything out of me. And he wasn't enjoying that fact.

I gave myself the luxury of a quick, irritated look before watching the compass spin endlessly. "It wouldn't make sense to you."

"Finn, luv, I have seen many things most men say don't make sense. Try me."

I shifted, closing up my body more. "I don't know how to explain it."

Jack reached over, grabbing my closed hand. "Do _not_ do this to me, Finn." I tried to release my fingers, unsuccessfully of course. "Start explaining, luv."

"Where should I start?" I countered, trying desperately to find a way out of this.

"The beginning is usually a wonderful…beginning," he replied, forcing my hand, and consequentially the rest of me, closer. "I'm willing to stay and listen."

"I don't know what I'm even trying to tell," I whispered.

"Now you're just making excuses," he muttered back. "You ought to know by now I'm not the most patient of men."

"Then it's amazing we've managed to survive together for so long," was my somewhat sarcastic reply. "You wanted to know what the two things I want most are. Correct?"

"That was the question that started this conversation. You've managed to deter me, however."

"Well," I continued, "one of them is the map. At least, I think it's that."

Jack stared at me, his dark eyes questioning. "_You_ want the map?" I nodded, and he began to study my hand intently, though I doubted it was my hand, but his own thoughts that were receiving the attention. Then, he looked up, a shadow of a smirk on his mouth. "What's the other one?"

My face was red in seconds. "That's none of your business."

"I asked for both."

"I'm only giving one."

He chuckled, low and soft, sending chills up my spine, but not pressing the issue further. Jack didn't need to; he knew exactly what the other one was.

I effectively pulled my hand out of his grasp, retreating back further into my seat, too discomfited to look him in the eye. This situation was getting more and more awkward by the minute, and it was clear from Jack's attitude and reactions that he was enjoying it immensely. I, on the other hand, was mortified. Never before had I allowed myself to show my emotions so clearly to anyone, aside from Ella. And this was not the type of conversation I would have _ever_ had with her, or any girl for that matter, leaving me alone in uncharted territories. It was unnerving for me; and Jack was perfectly aware of that.

"Please, continue your story that you are so hesitant to finish," he finally said, taking my hand back into his. "The curiosity is killing me."

"Let me have my hand back," I said.

"You don't need it."

"How do you know?"

"You're just avoiding the topic, luv. Let me prompt you: you want the map, and…something else that you are neglecting to mention." Jack smiled roguishly before continuing. "Why the map?"

I licked my lips nervously before answering, deciding to just dive into the problem. "I'm not from this time."

Jack cocked an eyebrow. "I don't entirely understand you, darling."

"I'm not from this _time_." When he still showed no signs of comprehension, I sighed heavily. "Jack, I was born in 1990. The _year_ _1990_."

Jack just stared back blankly.

After a very long pause, I cleared my throat an continued. "Back in…my home town, there was a lady who sold antiques. Well, I like buying antiques, so one day I visited her, and bought a large, pocket-watch looking item and an equally large key. While I thought they were cool, they appeared pretty worthless and I left them alone for a few months. Then, one day, Ella and I were walking, and we were attacked by nine men. Well, they were never able to actually attack us, because Ella noticed that the map was glowing, and when I touched it, we disappeared and landed off the coast from Selsy, in this time."

Jack showed no expression, but his grip on my hand was tighter.

"Did any of that make sense to you?" I asked softly.

He stood up, still holding my hand. "You…traveled here? Through the map?"

"Yes."

"You don't…belong here?"

"No." We locked eyes, and I bit my lip worriedly.

"You shouldn't actually be here right now?"

"No."

Jack tightened his hold on my hand, as if to make sure I was actually in the galley with him. Finally, he spoke, both eyes quizzical. "Time traveled?"

"I told you it wouldn't make sense," I said, also getting up. "It doesn't even make sense to me! I mean, the map hasn't glowed ever since then, and I can't even imagine what would have caused it!"

"Why do you need to know?" he challenged.

"Because I want to go home!" I replied, realization dawning on me. "It's not the map I want! It's going home! And the map is the only way that I can think of!"

"How do you know it would bring you back?" His voice seemed slightly frantic, but I paid no heed to the sudden tone shift.

"Because it had brought someone to my time! The antique lady told me she got it from a battered man dressed in a red army outfit, one that didn't fit our clothing at all! But it's the exact same as the one's the army men here wear. Whatever it does…it works!"

I was pacing at this point, leaving the galley to go up for some fresh air. Jack followed, racing after me as I sped up the stairs into the setting sun, deck empty of any other persons, who were probably beginning to bed. "Finn, luv, listen to me." He snatched my shoulders and spun me around to face him. "Why would you want to go back?"

"It's my home!" I said. How more obvious was it than that?

"You've managed to live quite happily here," he retorted. "And done a wonderful job of pretending that you belong. Why can you not keep doing that?"

I began to say something, but stopped as a frightening thought crept into my head: I loved it here. Despite the many differences I had to become accustomed to, I had learned to actually love this time and this place. Of course I missed my family, friends, technology; however, if there were to be no way back, I would be perfectly content to live the rest of my days here in the Caribbean.

But there was no way I was going to let Jack know this, or my whole argument would be lost. So, after giving him a particularly dirty look, I asked, "Why in the world would it matter to you?"

Jack rolled his eyes before seizing my arm. "Do I really need to explain that you?"

Before I knew what was happening, he was kissing me again, with such force it took my breath away. And, as before, I began to melt into his arms, but stopped myself, and instead pushed away, now furious that he dared to do that. "What in the world are you doing?" I hissed, wriggling in a fruitless attempt to be rid of him.

Jack reeled me in closer despite my struggles, gaining a firm grasp around my whole body. "Helping you to decide which one you want most."

Once again, he was kissing me, his breath warm on my face. But I wasn't going to lose myself again, not like before. I was able to escape his lips for a moment, and raised my hand to give him a good slap, but he caught it in midair. "Now, now, luv. No need to be rash."

"This isn't…this isn't _fair_! You aren't playing fair!" I spat, twisting around in a desperate attempt to free myself.

Jack didn't budge, but force my face up to his. "It's like you don't know me at all, Finn." He kissed me again, refusing to let me fight, which I was trying with real intent. Finally, he stopped, coming down so he could whisper, "You not leaving, if I can do anything about it."

"You have absolutely no control over the situation," I answered, but my resolve was steadily slipping.

Jack sensed it, and started kissing my neck softly, muttering something. I gave a few more weak shoves before stopping entirely, letting him hold me, his grip relaxing as I became less tense. It just wasn't fair.

"What are you saying?" I whispered, noticing I couldn't understand him through the haze of my thoughts.

Jack paused just above my lips, eyes closed. There seemed to be some internal struggle happening, for his face was contorted into a tortured expression, but soon the moment passed, and he opened his eyes, completely calm. "I love you."

I think I blacked out for a second, because the next moment I could see, I was practically on the ground, Jack holding me up. "Finn, are you okay?"

"I…I…" I couldn't seem to form a coherent sentence, and simply gazed up at him, the whole circumstance taking a very surreal feeling. My mind was spinning rapidly, too dazed to think clearly, but my chest and heart were burning with an overwhelming sense of emotion.

Jack, after a flash of concern went across his face, smiled grandly and kissed me again with a sweetness I didn't know he possessed.

This time I didn't fight. Instead, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back, not letting myself think of the map or home for that matter. I just wanted to enjoy the moment, revel in the fact that he had actually said the very thing I had been yearning. I, who had never tasted love before, wanted to never forget it.

We broke apart, and the wind blew across my face, fresh and cool. After kissing me on the lips one more time, Jack smiled impishly and asked, "Do you have what you want?"

I looked up, knowing that Jack had done exactly what he had intended to do, and wanting nothing more than to punch him the face for it. He knew I couldn't just _leave_; he had me so tightly wrapped around his finger that if he asked me to jump off a cliff, I just might do it. I could _never_ make myself go now.

"You are a terrible man," I finally said, but without the fiery sharpness that would usually accompany such a statement.

"Pirate," he muttered, leaning down for another kiss.

But out of the corner of my eyes, I saw something horrid, and turned my face away to get a better look. "That the _Midas_!" I gasped.

Jack's head whipped around to where I was staring, eyes sharp and irked. "How do you know this?"

"It was at Port Royal! The captain is friends with the Commodore!" Fear was gripping me, and I clutched at Jack's shirt, wanting to never let go. "He tried to trap me on his ship, but I managed to escape. Don't let him catch up."

Jack pulled out his spyglass and watched the large ship approach. "I'm going to let him board."

"Are you crazy?"

"Many have said as much."

"Jack!" I yelled, following him as he went to the helm. "He's after the Fountain too! He'd do anything to get it! Don't let him on! Is this the fastest ship in the Caribbean or not?"

Jack spun around and grabbed my shoulders. "Finn, my love, _calm down_. The ship is waving a flag of truce, meaning he wants to discuss matters, which means he could have information we need."

"We? Since was _I_ looking for the Fountain? _I_ just got dragged into this mess!"

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Well I'm glad you feel that way."

"Why?"

"Because you won't have any issues when I lock you into my cabin."

"WHAT!" I screamed, backing away. "You can't do that!"

"The conversation we will have won't concern you," he answered, smiling at his own genius. "You don't care about the Fountain, remember?"

"You can't…do that!"

"Watch me," he whispered, pulling me down the stairs to his cabin door.

"This is absurd! Absolutely unreasonable!"

"Finn, I lost you once from my own mistake. I don't intend to have the same situation happen again, especially if it is unintended."

With that, he threw me into the room, and the loud click of a lock was heard, leaving me fuming with anger, yet practically singing with happiness. He had said he loved me.

And was proving it by locking me away.

I hate irony.


	29. After Thoughts

AN: After re-reading the last chapter, it occured to me that I needed to include Jack's thoughts on the very recent events. It also occured to me that he was not a Prince Charming who would fall madly in love and remain forever loyal and loving, quite opposite of Finn's character. So, while a little off the main story line, is something that I consider very vital to the rest of the plot, and will continue into the sequel.

I hope you, as always, enjoy.

* * *

Jack watched the approaching ship carefully, yet his thoughts were far away from the near meeting with this Captain Dawson.

Everything he had told Finn was…more or less the truth. Jack certainly didn't want her to leave; over the course of their interesting relationship, he had grown to crave her presence, almost like an addiction, but much sweeter and more difficult to break.

The question was, _how much_ did he love Finn?

Jack was not a person who commonly attached himself to others. Such a thing was nothing more than a hinderence as a pirate. The closest he had ever come was his interaction with Will and Elizabeth, people whom he could say that he, in his own unique way, cared about. But if he were to never see them again, Jack knew he could move on without regrets.

And he had _never_ attached himself to a woman. It was too dangerous for him. To become so involved with anyone meant that he was surrendering his freedom, his want to do anything that he pleased. Now, Jack had always lived by this law, and to have someone come and change all that was…stressful.

And he wasn't sure he was willing to make that change.

_Why_ had he convinced himself that everything would be fine once he had Finn? For surely he had her now. She was not the type that was flighty, remaining loyal to her last breath; that had been proven with her love of her friend. She also was not that type of women who would just let him leave and live his life, coming back to see her once in awhile. If anything, she would want to go with him, wherever it was, to see it for herself, to be with him. And she certainly would never allow him to have any other relationship. Her type tended to be a jealous type; the exact reason Jack had previously steered away from them before, instead spending his time with ladies of the night, who were hardly picky, nor wanted a relationship to last longer than a night. No, Finn certainly was not his type of woman.

Then why did he seem to be falling her, faster and deeper?

He clutched the wheel tighter, watching his men do their work as they appeared from below deck, all rather grumpy after his order to come on deck to meet another ship.

Finn was too complicated. It was always a mystery to what she was thinking, despite the fact that she had always told him the honest truth. The only other person who could compare was Elizabeth; and she was nothing more than a governor's daughter, spirited in her own right, but completely predictable. All Elizabeth had wanted was adventure, a chance to live a life different than she had known, only to return to the familiarity once she was finished. There had been his fleeting feelings for her, but after very little time, forgotten and done away with. There were other's like her, all of whom could be accessible if attempted.

Now that he thought about it, Finn was nothing like Elizabeth. Where Mrs. Turner would not allow to be pushed around and told what to do, Finn simply refused to consider that as an option. Where Elizabeth had forced herself to be heard, Finn had automatically seen it as her _right_ to be heard. This Miss Winifred Delaney _acted_ as an independent woman, not someone who _wanted_ to be one.

This, as Jack saw it, could prove to be a problem in their relationship. He had never dealt with any female who saw themselves as his equal. And, it was clear that this particular characteristic would not allow him to just leave at his pleasure. No, if Finn wanted him to stay, she would find a way to make it happen, or break everything off entirely.

Anyone who had dared take away his freedom was dead, or suppose to be dead. If he were to commit himself to Finn, then she would be doing exactly that.

This seem to put a distinct dilemma in Jack's mind. He very well didn't want to _kill_ Finn, but losing his freedom was the worst thing that could happen to him.

Did he love Finn enough to willingly give that up?

The answer came instantly: no. Freedom was something he had fought for all of his life, something he had been willing to do anything to attain. Jack was _not_ going to just give it up.

Obviously, it had been a vital mistake when he told her he loved her. To Finn, that was a whole heart and soul concept; for him, a way of saying that, yes, I actually care about you. But they were just words, and words can take words away.

The odd thing was, when he had said them, he had meant them. Jack had not been thinking tactfully as he watched her face. While they had been hard to utter, hard to actually admit, it had seemed infinitely right at the moment to say it. Which was the reason Jack had.

Why couldn't he just find a way to have both? There _had_ to be a way. Things _always_ worked out for him. He was Captain Jack Sparrow.

As the ship came closer, Jack turned over his thoughts again. He would have to be careful now that he had Finn. Needed to make sure she was content with where they were standing. She was a smart women, a dangerous fact in its own right, and if Finn was to ever see his faltering, she would set hell on him.

Jack looked down at his compass, suddenly aware of its presence. Earlier, it had been pointing directly at Finn, something he had not been expecting. But now, it was pointed toward the _Midas_…no doubt the information he needed to retrieve the Fountain of Youth.

So he wanted the Fountain most now.

He frowned, trying to decipher the sudden changes over the course of less than an hour. But it wasn't hard to figure it out; he had Finn now, so why go _searching_ for her? It made sense, and Jack smiled contently as he watched the other pirate sail closer. Why want something he already had? Especially if it would be hard to lose?

But then he began thinking about the new, extremely surreal information of Finn's origination. Another time…how was that possible? Imagining Finn as not…Finn was strange. Had she not always been a governess? Lived in England? Lived _now_?

Actually, it accounted for quite a few oddities of her character that Jack had noticed. Her accent, to begin with. It was not English, nor any he had heard before. And her height was taller than many women he was familiar with. Not to mention her personality. Finn, though quiet by nature, did not allow herself to be ignored.

Or used.

Guilt washed over Jack, rare and unusual for him. That was exactly what he was doing: using her. For just about everything he was doing; first, his ship, now, the method to gain the Fountain.

But Jack knew when he lied, and he had _not_ lied when he told Finn he loved her. The words had come, and had begged to be said.

Then what exactly did Finn mean to him?

And what was he willing to sacrifice for her?


	30. The Arrival of Dawson

AN: Once again, I beg a thousand pardons for not updating sooner. School has been terrible (stupid classes like NM history...pre-cal...you know, things that just eat up your time). I thank everybody who is still a loyal reader...I love you all. Knowing that you all are reading and enjoy my story helps tremendously. I am still having trouble figuring out Finn's feelings (she's a very closed-up character sometimes), and if you have trouble understanding what she is thinking through this chapter...I'm sorry. I don't quite understand it either. In essence, I feel like I butchered the whole thing, but it was a part that needed to be written, because I couldn't concentrate on school, it was bugging me so much. Once again, sorry if it's rough reading.

And as always, reviews are always welcome (Thanx to those of you who have reviewed!)

Enjoy.

* * *

I was squatting by the door, ear to the key hole, listening as Dawson boarded the ship, Jack's usual…unusual greeting beginning.

While in most circumstances similar to this, other women might be screaming their lungs out, I had opted to keep silent and manageable for three reasons. One, I was not the type to scream my lungs out. Voices have much better uses than to be used as high-pitched foghorns. Two, Jack wouldn't pay any attention to me, meaning that I would continue yelling until I had no voice left. And after my incident at Port Royal, I was in no mood to repeat that. Third, Dawson would hear me, and even though our first meeting was brief, I had absolutely no desire to meet him again. No, silence and stillness was, as far as I could tell, my best bet.

This didn't rid me of my curiosity, however, which accounted for my position now. Unfortunately, I could only hear, not see.

"Jack Sparrow. I've heard many a thing about _you_," said Dawson with a less than complimentary sneer, no doubt.

"Captain," corrected Jack, who would be smiling lazily at this point. "I can't say the same about you, mate. Never heard of a Captain…"

"Dawson," the other growled. "I has come to my knowledge that you are searching for the Fountain of Youth. I want an exchange of information."

"What makes you think I want to exchange anything with _you_?"

"You were at Port Royal recently, and captured a Miss Winifred Delaney. And she has what I want."

There was a moment of dead silence before Jack muttered, "And what exactly is that?"

"The key and map. The Commodore told me, and I intend to have them…and the girl."

"Now, why would I take a girl, who has no value on a ship, except to get in the way? Why not just take the items instead?"

"So you do have them!"

"You'll be hard pressed to find them, mate." The cocking of a gun was heard, and I clamped my hand over my mouth to stop from gasping. "They aren't on me," continued Jack languidly. "And if you shoot, you lose all chance of finding them. I'm the only one who knows where they are."

I frowned, and looked to my left, only to see said map and key still lying on the floor, right where I had thrown them two nights before. What was Jack talking about? If Dawson was to come in, he would see them. They weren't hidden…

At this point, I saw a very interesting facet of Jack's character. He was just bluffing. Just lying. Just like that. And with such ease and stature that Dawson must believe him.

But this meant that Jack could probably lie about anything, as long as it got him to what he wanted.

Anything.

After all, he was just a _pirate_.

I didn't have much time to ponder my new fear, however, for Dawson quickly piped up again. "Very well, I won't shoot you. I'll shoot him instead."

I scampered over to the map and key and stuffed them down my front. It was very unlikely that Jack was going to let one of this own men die, and I wanted some form of bartering to have, which the map and key provided for nicely.

"What was that noise?"

I stopped moving, intent on the conversation outside the door.

"You, go in there."

The rattle of the knob was heard, and my heart began to pound. They were going to find me.

"Locked, cap'n."

Two things happened very suddenly, and at the same time. I could hear Jack's voice yelling a definite "Don't shoot there!" just as a pistol went off, causing the door to swing wide open.

In a split second I was on my feet, a knife in hand that I had grabbed from the desk. Two men stood there, both somewhat dazed, yet looking particularly dangerous as the evening sun shone behind them. It didn't take long for them to realize my presence, and they barged over, smiling fiendishly.

"Get away," I croaked, holding my knife out farther.

I could tell from their faces they thought I was bluffing. _I_ knew I was bluffing; there was no way I could get the guts to stab anyone, unless by accident. And I had developed a very set habit of not being a deceiver, a habit that was proving extremely hard to break when under pressure.

Yet, they didn't come any nearer. Despite the fact that I might be bluffing, they would not risk the fact that I might not. What cowards.

When the action stood still, Dawson barged through, shoving both men aside, and I scampered backwards even further, almost tripping over my dress. "Ah, Miss Delaney. Wonderful to meet you again," drawled Dawson, lumbering toward me. Suddenly, he stopped, and turned toward Jack, who was in the doorway now, looking rather sour. His pistol went up. "You lied."

"I never lied. I only asked why I would bother taking a girl on a ship. I didn't say that wasn't true," explained Jack, moving the pistol to the side. "Now why don't we put all this misunderstanding aside and converse like the gentlemen we are."

Dawson placed his pistol under Jack's chin, forcing him to look up. "I didn't come here to converse."

"Don't shoot," I croaked, taking a step forward. Two strong pairs of hands grasped my shoulders.

"Take her outside," ordered Dawson. "I'd prefer for this to be a private matter." He nudged Jack roughly, forcing him toward the bed.

"Jack doesn't know where they are," I said, struggling against my captors helplessly. "Threatening him isn't going to do any good."

Dawson looked at me skeptically, but did remove his pistol. "And you're willing to sacrifice your safety for his benefit. How intriguing."

"You've abandoned the Commodore," I noted quickly, not allowing him to finish what ever he intended to say. "Yet you were quite willing to help him not but a week ago. Why?"

The pirate captain glowered at me. "I don't see where that would concern you, Miss Delaney. Men, take Captain Sparrow outside. I have a discussion to hold with the lady now."

"Actually, it concerns us a great deal," Jack interrupted, side-stepping away from the approaching men. "You see, we're trying to get away from the Commodore as well."

"And what makes you think I'm trying to escape the Commodore?"

"You don't want him to get the treasure, mate. We're pirates, me and you; I understand exactly what you're thinking. Take what you can, give nothing back. You only teamed up with the Commodore because you knew it was your ticket to the Fountain. Now that you have another, much more desirable option that following Belmont like a puppy, you intend to take it. And for that, I fully applaud you. However, it seems to be interceding into _my_ option, something I'm not quite so willing to overlook. But, because I am indefinitely generous and flexible, I am willing to come to an agreement."

Dawson stared at Jack, and I wondered for a brief second whether he actually understood what Jack was saying. Finally he answered, slowly, like a bully trying to see if stopping his harassment would benefit him more. "You want to make a deal?"

"To put it bluntly, yes. You see, two pirates teamed up are going to be much more of a threat than two pirates fighting. I say we work together to find this Fountain. Beat Belmont to it."

Dawson raised an eyebrow, stroked his chin, then smiled, sticking out his hand. "Deal." Jack was about to take it, until the other captain took it back, still grinning. "Under certain conditions, of course. One of us needs to keep the map."

Jack nodded. "And that will be me, since I seem to be in possession of it, though I apparently have no idea where it is."

"And then I will need to keep a ransom, to make sure you don't abandon me at sea. Miss Delaney fits the bill perfectly."

I scowled at the pirate, then looked at Jack who, much to my dismay, was _thinking_ about the situation. But, after a long pause, he shook his head. "Sorry mate. Not an option."

Dawson frowned, and glanced skeptically between Jack and I. "Very well, Captain Sparrow, if not her, who? Give me a ransom, or the agreement is off."

Jack's eyes wandered around the room, studying what few number of his own crewmembers had entered. Finally, he grinned, a mischievous grin that I was beginning to recognize very well, and pointed at himself. "Take me, mate. I'll be your ransom."

Dawson was silent, then laughed. Behind him, Gibbs was shaking his head vigorously, pleading silently that his captain not leave. "And how do you know I won't just kill you? Captain of the ship that is hardly my friend. Seems awfully risky, Sparrow."

Jack wasn't phased, his cocky smile still plastered on. "Oh, it's not risky in the least. My crew would know exactly if you were to kill me. And if you do, they'll set hell on you. No, it's very safe for me, Captain…"

"Dawson," he growled. "And how do you plan to let them know?"

Jack undid his compass from his belt and, after shooing away the men that still held me, placed it in my hand. Leaning down to my ear, he whispered, "You know what you want the most."

I froze, not quite holding onto the heavy compass that was in my grasp, watching as everyone empted from the cabin.

He could _not_ be serious.

I wasn't sure whether to scream at him or…actually, that was it. How could he just _assume_? It was too risky! How dare he suddenly seem so…heroic! Willing to sacrifice himself! He could die!

Did Jack really trust me that much?

I swallowed, watching the lid warily, dearly wanting to not open it, yet knowing that I had to. Jack hadn't left me with much of a choice. So, after a deep breath, I cracked it open and peeked inside.

It wasn't spinning anymore.

And the point was focused on something outside of the door.

I followed it, keeping my face down, still staring at the straight needle, wondering what Jack had gotten us into.

Stupid man. Brilliant too. At this point, I highly doubted there was an adjective apt enough to describe him.

I bumped into a large and squishy something. Looking up, I saw Gibbs standing there, watching me with a little frown. The needle was pointed at him.

Now that couldn't be right.

"I once heard you were a daft man, Sparrow, but not brainless," cackled Dawson. I went around Gibbs to see Jack standing there, his golden smile glinting devilishly in the rapidly disappearing light, right where my compass was pointed.

"Brainless is simply a matter of perspective, Captain Dawson," countered Jack.

"I still would like to know how the crew is going to be aware if I were to heartlessly murder you. I don't intend to be raising any flags to tell them of such."

"I'll know," I said softly, closing the compass and hiding it from Dawson's wondering eyes.

The pirate looked down at me silently, sneering. "You'll know? How, Miss Delaney?"

"That part doesn't concern you," I responded, not quite willing to meet Jack's gaze. I was still rather annoyed that he had put us in this situation, yet at the same time scared gutless that something terrible would happen. "You want the map, Dawson?"

He smiled. "Ah, yes; the meaning of this problem. I had nearly forgotten. Where is it, Miss Delaney?"

"If you want to see it," I dictated slowly and demurely, "you will stop asking questions and simply listen. Jack will chart the course; the his crew will lead, you will follow. If you want to have contact with us, you will run a white flag signifying as such, and we will respond with another white flag. None of this approaching without invitation, or we will fire on you. You will not harm a hair on Jack's head while he is a guest on your ship, or we will fire on you. Is that all clear?"

Dawson gaped down at me, almost with a look of disgust. "And why do you assume you can dictate the terms to me? You aren't even a captain."

"I have the map, remember? I can dictate as I please." Once again, I was bluffing my ferocity. On the outside, I'd imagine I looked something like an angry cat, spitting and snarling, though on the inside, I was quivering with fear.

Yet, my bluffing worked, much to my great surprise. After glancing around the deck, Dawson glared down at me, his blonde bear trembling slightly. "Very well, then, Miss Delaney," he spat. "I will grant your terms, promising not to injury one hair of Sparrow's head."

"Captain," he interjected quickly.

Dawson rolled his eyes, as a parent would to a little child. "Now that this little…misunderstanding is cleared away, I suggest that we have this map that you speak of, and sail to the island as soon as we are able."

"A grand idea!" agreed Jack energetically. "Let's convene to my quarters, and we will chart the coordinates. Miss Delaney?" He held out is hand, supposing himself a gentleman, and I took it, following him as he led.

"What were you thinking--" I hissed, hoping that Dawson, who was shouting orders to his crew, was not eavesdropping.

"Not now, luv," he cooed. "Leave everything to Captain Jack Sparrow, and you'll have no need to worry."

"Your name does not have _magical_ qualities," I growled. "You're going to get yourself killed! Searching for this fountain is going to be your death!"

"I find it rather intriguing that you are suddenly so concerned with my well-being," he said. Blushing a vivid red, I opened my mouth, very much ready to give something back in retort, but he silenced me with a wave of his hand. "And while I would love to finish this interesting conversation, it is going to have to wait for another time, luv." He pointed toward the fast approaching Dawson.

"You deserve to be slapped for getting all of us into this mess," I answered, almost ready to do the deed myself. At the moment, my emotions were an utter mess. I had fallen in love with this man, this _pirate_, who could not seem to stay away from trouble, and who was arrogant and careless and charming and entirely indescribable all at the same time. This man had told me he loved me, and this man was also putting his life on the line for a puddle of water. I knew that I should not be trusting this man, yet I found myself depending on him more and more. My mind was telling me to leave by any means necessary, yet my heart told me to follow him to the ends of the earth if I had to.

If anything, I needed was a break from all this, someone to talk to.

What I really needed was Ella.

The sudden thought of her made my anger disappear, and I unclenched my hands, which had been holding rather tightly onto Jack's. Was Ella okay? Last I had seen her was being carried off by the Commodore…the thought made me shiver with fear. I had to get through this somehow, for her. I could do anything to save her. And I would do anything.

Jack sensed my abrupt change in mood, and smiled winningly. "Don't worry, Finn. I'll get us out. After all, I'm--"

"Don't even say it."

"Enough chatting," growled Dawson, grabbing us both from behind and shoving us forward through the door. "The map."

I swallowed and looked between the two pirates, so different in many respects, yet still so alike.

How did I get myself into this mess?


	31. The Map

AN: Look! I've finally written another chapter! I am SO sorry it took like...what...three months to update? Way to long, I would think; but school was terrible, and finals worse. But now...schools out! So maybe I'll be able to finish the story before long! Don't worry, not many chapters left.

Once again, I would like to thank all you faithful readers that have continued to read and wait. Thank you!

As always, enjoy.

"So, the map?"

I sat down on the large chair by the desk and looked at Dawson warily, glancing toward Jack as well. Sighing in frustration and embarrassment, I reached down into my dress to pull out the map, no longer looking at either man. This was a rather awkward situation.

Dawson grabbed for it, sneering slightly, but I pulled it back. Instead of grabbing again, the pirate looked at me suspiciously. "Sparrow had _no_ idea where it was?"

I blushed at what he was implying. "Of course he didn't know, you freak."

Dawson frowned. "Freak?"

I rolled my eyes. Modern slang. "Never mind."

Jack, thankfully, had the decency to remain silent.

"And the key?" continued Dawson.

"I have the wrong key. And I'm wondering how you plan to open it without the right one," I answered evenly.

It was, in fact, a rather big problem. As I had gone through the negotiations, I had forgotten this pivotal fact, not remembering until just moments ago. Now I was faced with the decision of whether to act surprised (not so much acting), or be completely calm and reasonable about the matter. Since I was facing one greedy and impatient man (Jack), and another greedy and bloodthirsty man (Dawson), I decided to go with the reasonable response.

Dawson hardly seemed fazed, which was not quite what I was expecting. "Wrong key? That _is_ a problem." Reaching into his coat pocket, he took out a small key with a ruby at the end. I stifled a small gasp; the ruby matched the one on the map. _That_ was the right key. He had taken it from Barbossa, the last owner I could recall.

After a brief pause, Jack lunged toward him, but Dawson was faster, and he avoid him with ease, smirking viciously. "Seems like I have _the_ key. We negotiate how I wish."

I froze, but there was another brief pause, and we all three looked at the map, which was now lying defenselessly on the desk. Simultaneously, we all grabbed at it, heads smashing and arms bumping, but this time I was the quickest, and soon backed away, map in one hand, my previous dagger in the other. "I have _the_ map. Negotiations remain the same."

"Exactly the same," repeated Jack, waving his fingers repeatedly in Dawson's face. For a small moment, I understood why Barbossa just might hate Jack.

"Very well," he snarled, his eyes almost turning red.

"Key," I demanded.

Dawson did nothing.

"You're outnumbered mate, even if it is two to one," said Jack as another long silence stretched. This did not seem to affect the pirate in a particularly positive way: in fact, he began reaching for his sword.

I tried a different approach. "Every second we waste arguing is a second the Commodore will have time to catch up."

"The Commodore doesn't know where we are," countered Dawson, hand still wavering above his hilt.

"Barbossa is looking for this treasure too; obviously information you were aware of," I glanced knowingly at the key, "and if Belmont isn't following us, he certainly will be following Barbossa."

"And how will Barbossa know of us?"

"The man sticks to me like a plague," interjected Jack. "He left soon after the _Pearl_ left port. We haven't seen him for a few days, but I'm sure he's tracking us."

Dawson glared down at the floor before tossing the key to me. "It seems that I am indeed at a disadvantage."

Sighing with relief, I took the key, and after a slight nod from Jack, opened the map.

I wasn't really sure what to expect. Initially, I had been thinking something to the effect of Stargate; plug in the symbols (in this case, the key), and some grand explosion would take place and open up a gigantic map. Then I considered something like Treasure Planet, where you fool around with it for a while, and a great hologram pops out. But then came the problem about technology…

Whatever I had thought, it was all wrong. No, the map was not grand, magical, or special in anyway. When I opened it, a tightly folded piece of animal skin fell out.

Apparently, I wasn't the only one who had been expecting something magnificent; both Jack and Dawson had something to the effect of confused disappointment on their faces. Taking the skin, I smoothed it out on the desk to look at it. The ink wasn't smudged, showing many small islands, and a dainty line connecting a few, along with directions next to the lines. Turning the skin over, I saw an enlarged island with more lines leading to a certain point, and at the certain point, there appeared to be a map of a maze, with a whole line of directions as a subscript.

Both pirates were entranced, and Jack gently shoved me out of the way to get a better look. Peeking over my shoulder, Dawson grunted angrily. "Well, we have the map. But I can't make out a word of those directions!"

Jack sniffed and bent closer. "They seem to be of a native dialect…or…Italian? No, that can't be right…doesn't matter much since I can't read Italian…navige vesper pro quintum passum…gibberish…"

"Good grief, it's Latin!" I gasped. "Navige vesper pro quintum passum? That's…" I squinted as I remembered my vocabulary, "…sail west for five miles." I leaned over to look at more of the directions. "…lets see…keep to the south side of the island…go north for twenty miles…turn west, again…for…eighteen miles, yes, that's right…"

"You can read this?" asked Dawson.

I raised an eyebrow. "Of course I can read this. There _was_ a reason I'm a governess."

"Then _you_ are going to be my ransom," snarled Dawson, snatching me up by my hair. I shrieked and tried to get away, but he pinned me back to the chair and stuck a muzzle under my chin.

"We already had it figured out!" I cried. "Why are you changing it now?"

"Let her go mate, or a blast a hole through this map and no one finds the Fountain," threatened Jack, who now possessed the map and was holding it his pistol.

"You won't do that," Dawson cackled, digging the muzzle in deeper to my throat, "because you want it as much as I do."

There was clearly an internal struggle happening for Jack; eyes stony and mouth, for once, not in a cocky grin. Yes, he didn't want something to happen to me, but…yet…something in the back of my mind told me that no matter what he said to _me_, there was always going to be something _else_. What more could I expect? He was a pirate.

So that's what it was to be. His hand was already lowering the map, and the faintest look of defeat had entered his eyes. Jack wanted the Fountain more. There was no way around that fact.

Swallowing, I forced myself to think of something to do. Long ago, I might have been deeply hurt, but now, I was letting my emotions wash over me. Jack was a pirate, and I could expect nothing more than that from him. And while I was certainly disappointed, I knew it couldn't stop me from my problem at hand. I had bigger things to worry about than a relationship that couldn't work.

First thing was first, get Dawson talking. He seemed to enjoy doing it.

"Why me as a ransom?" I asked, leaning away from the barrel.

"You can read Latin, which means that you could be very well leading us on a wild goose chase and know exactly where we are! I'm not about to risk such a venture." Grabbing my shoulder, he forced me to stand up in front of him.

"You're assuming I know how to sail, which I don't."

"But the sailors do."

"You're observant," I retorted, which earned me a jab from the pistol.

"You could easily lead us to Port Royal to get us arrested," he continued.

"Wouldn't you realize if we were going there?" I asked.

"But the Fountain might be near there. However, I wouldn't know, because I can't read Latin."

"Then I'll translate this for you right now, then everybody knows where we're going."

"You might lie. And no one on this ship would be able to check if you were right or not."

"What incentive do I have to lie?"

"To get help from the Royal Navy, or any friends you might have."

"Let me explain something to you," I sighed, turning to face him. "I have come to the Caribbean only a month or so ago. All the friends I have are as follows: Elizabeth Swann, who I cannot seem to locate; Ella Bronte, who is now trapped by Belmont; Richard Tremaine, who is on this ship; Clarissa, who is either still kidnapped or in a completely useless position for me; and Jack Sparrow, who is standing right there. As far as the Royal Navy is concerned, one of its highest ranking officers happens to be trying to kill me right now, and we are on the infamous _Black Pearl_, which _also_ happens to be one of the most wanted vessels sailing the seven seas. From where I stand, the only way I am going to be getting out is this mess is if I travel to the Fountain, _correctly_. Why in the world would I lie?"

To my great surprise, this little speech of mine left Dawson silent, staring carefully at me, until he spoke slowly, "Very well. But just to make sure there is no mischief happening, I'll have one of my crew members stay on board, to watch you. Understood?"

"Fine, whatever. I don't care."

"Now that we have concluded that Miss Delaney is virtually friendless and extremely virtuous," interjected Jack, pulling me out of Dawson's hands, "I suggest we continue with the daunting task of interpreting the map. My dear, if you would," he motioned toward the chair again, and after quirking an eyebrow, I sat down and smoothed out the map.

The Latin was hard to understand; fairly basic, for those who know how to read it. It wasn't long until I had the entire course charted, and after going over it again, Dawson made a copy for himself, and went out to pick a crew man. Both Jack and I were left in the cabin.

"I don't understand," I mumbled under my breath. "Why _Latin_?"

He leaned over me to get a better view of the map, his chin grazing my ear. "Well, I'd imagine it was to keep it hidden. Not many can read it."

I snorted. "Just because _you_ aren't able to read it doesn't mean nobody can. There's a whole class of people quite capable of understanding this." I smoothed out the skin again. "I wonder if that's why it's in Latin; so only a certain group of people could ever reach it. But," I studied the backside, the one with the maze, "this is strange. A maze? It's like someone found it and wanted to make sure no one else could find it. So they created this, one great puzzle."

"You haven't ever heard the stories then," answered Jack. "Spanish conquistadors have been coming ever since gold was discovered. Numerous ones never came back, except for a few crazed men, of whom no one believed a word. It was those few that came back with these objects," he motioned to the map holder (time traveling device), ruby key, and emerald key. After that, a lot of speculation has happened, but from personal experience, and after seeing the map for myself, my extremely educated guess is that the native people created the maze to stop the conquistadors. The emerald key is probably the key to the Fountain itself, and the map was created by the remaining conquistadors, in Latin, so that only high class citizens could ever reach the Fountain."

"And the pocket watch, or the ruby key?"

Jack stepped back and shrugged. "There's rumored to be treasure with the Fountain, but no one is sure. However, if these men made it to the Fountain and came back alive, then these items might have come from this vast treasure, and just happened to be the objects in which the map was kept."

I picked up the pocket watch, and sighed in frustration. "It looks so…pointless. I just wish I knew how it worked. Then I could…" I trailed off and glanced up at Jack.

The look on his face was sobering; too serious of an expression than had ever graced his features before. "Still don't know what you want?"

My mouth opened before I had time to think. "Do you know?"

A look mixed of disgust, guilt, and annoyance was seen as he huffed, "I _always_ know what I want." He snatched the pocket watch out of my hand and tossed it in the air.

"That's because you've only ever cared for yourself." I grabbed for the object, but he kept it successfully from my grasp.

"And you don't?" He was definitely angry now, eyes flashing dangerously.

I gritted my teeth in frustration, trying to understand how we had both become so short so suddenly. "I _strive_ not to."

"The same could be said for many, including myself."

"I'll believe that when I see that," I spat, finally taking the pocket watch back.

He faced me sulkily, his mouth in a twisted, painful grin. "You don't trust me anymore?"

"Only in certain situations," was my soft answer. I was dying to really turn this into a fight, and I was stressed enough, that at the moment, it seemed that it might in fact be enjoyable to scream and hit and scratch, but I knew that it most certainly would not be a good idea. And to a small degree, I was frightened. Angry Jack was not someone I was accustomed to dealing with, and in truth, I didn't _really_ enjoy fighting…

"Such as?"

I swallowed and walked toward the cabin door. "Getting us to the places you want to go, and helping the people who would be most profitable to you."

"In essence, you are accusing me of having no heart," he answered quietly, but fiercely.

"I think that you are so used to one way of life, it is hard for you to change," I retorted. "People are quite able to ignore their heart."

"And I am more accustomed to it than others?"

Jack seemed to be sneering, a nasty, horrible look that was truly frightening me. Hot tears were rimming my eyes, and in the darkness, I was sure he couldn't see them. Humiliated and miserable, I turned to the knob and tried to open it, only to find it was no longer there. Oh, yes, it had been blasted off.

But he must have sensed was I was trying to do, because Jack quickly shut the door. "So in answer to your problem, you try to leave. How…cowardly."

I had damaged something; either his ego, or himself, I wasn't sure which, and I was sure that was what the cutting remarks were attempting to hide. But this only amplified the hurt, and sobbing, I begged, "Let me be. I don't want to be here, so just let me _be_."

He stepped further away from me, but didn't release the door. "I don't understand you, Finn. I just don't understand."

"I don't understand myself either, okay?" I cried. "Everything about this has made me feel so…lost."

It was silent, a thick, heavy silence that crept all around me, making it harder to breath. Finally, Jack spoke.

"Well, you best make your mind up about something soon, or you're going to feel like that for a very long time. As for myself; I know what it is I want, and I don't intend to lose _either_ of them."

"What if there was a choice? What if you couldn't have them both?"

Jack smirked. "I won't have to make that choice. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

I wanted to scream, but instead wiped away my tears. What was _wrong_ with this man? One moment defensive and angry, the next, cocky and…once again, adjectives failed me. And how could he be so _sure_?

Dawson boomed in, the door ricocheting off of my head, and I tumbled to the ground clumsily, yelling in anger and pain.

"Time to leave, Sparrow," he cackled gleefully.

Two arms lifted me up, and I came face to face with Jack, his usual arrogant grin plastered on. "Trust me now?"

"I have nothing else to trust," I remarked sourly, shooing his hands off of me.

He chuckled, and after glancing at Dawson puckishly, kissed me full on the mouth before strutting out jauntily.

Wiping off not only tears but my mouth, I glared at the map that was lying on the table. "You are too much trouble," I mumbled before collapsing on the bed.

* * *

Dawson kept a good two miles away at all times, and while I could see his ship, I couldn't tell whether or not any other ship was following.

But I was sure of it.

Unfortunately, neither Barbossa nor Belmont would be a good choice to have pursuing us; worse if both. Barbossa probably wanted to kill me for leaving, and while Belmont had Ella, he had made it very clear that I was in certain peril in his presence. Dawson was trailing us for sure, and from every way I looked at it, I was pretty much toast.

Naturally, the next few days were rather stressful.

If the simple worry of making through this venture wasn't enough, three other things were constantly bugging my mind.

First was the incessant crew member Dawson had insisted on leaving with us. He was a chubby, short fellow with virtually no teeth and the greasiest mop of hair I had ever seen. Almost every step I took had him lumbering behind, and after the third day, Gibbs took pity on me and both he and Richard remained my constant bodyguards.

Second was the pocket watch thing (I can really think of nothing else to call it). I _knew_ that if I could just figured out how it worked, I would be safe, and be able to save those who I cared about. But I could not, for the life of me, remember what had caused it to activate four years earlier. It wasn't long until I realized that the whole event must have been an accident, meaning that I had not even a clue to what the cause could possibly be. Maybe nights were wasted with me sitting in the cabin, tapping, rubbing, squeezing, _anything_ to get a glow. Nothing.

Third was, as seemed to be common now, Jack. Once again, my mind was a blur of thoughts and emotions, and combined with my current stress level, it was a ticking bomb, ready to explode. Most of the time I simply tried to forget about him, telling myself over and over that while he might be a good man, he was not the best man, and was most certainly still a pirate. I told myself that obviously nothing could _really_ happen; he cared too much for things that I stuck my nose up at, and his regard for others could certainly use improvement. If anything, my main concern was that he just didn't love me enough, and I wasn't about to commit myself to someone who would leave on a whim.

But, as always, it did no good. Everyday, when I checked the compass, it pointed directly at the _Midas_.

Soon, it was the last night before landing. A good two weeks had passed (the Fountain was no where near Florida, but closer to South America), and we were scheduled to land the next day at noon.

However, not long after night had fallen, I discovered I had mistaken a certain number by a great deal when looking at the map once more.

"Gibbs! I have a problem," I hissed, tapping him on the shoulder. It was around midnight; the only time I could be sure that grease ball of a pirate wasn't following me around.

He mumbled, turned, and finally woke, sitting up grogily in his hammock. "Problem? Of what type?"

I shoved the map into his lap. "Directions. I mistranslated. Instead of just south, its south, and then turn west three degrees, and _then_ go the ten miles. We're going to have to turn at least ten degrees to get back on course. Thankfully, it's the last stretch, but how much a difference will it make?"

Gibbs rubbed his eyes and brought the map up to the lamp. "Three degrees west? Ten degrees? That would give us…another two days. We wouldn't be arriving until the morning of the third day, at the least." He sighed and rubbed his cheeks wearily. "Dawson is going to notice."

"Can't we send a message over, telling him that I made a mistake?" I moaned.

"That man is looking for any excuse to kill Jack and us," explained Gibbs. "Our best bet is if Mr. Druth (grease ball pirate) doesn't raise up the warning flag. Dawson might think that he wrote the directions down wrong, and just keep following us."

"Maybe, but that pirate is going--" I stopped and faced the door. Shuffling, very fast shuffling, had been heard. "What was that?"

Gibbs was still. "If I didn't know better, I'd say someone was spying."

We remained there for another split second before I blitzed it to the upper deck, leaving Gibbs to wake some of the men.

It may have been midnight, but a bright full moon was directly overhead, and in its light was Mr. Druth, fumbling around with the red warning flag. Even in the darkness, Dawson would be sure to see it.

Without thinking, I charged him, tackling him to the ground. Within seconds, we were in a messy struggle, and soon he had my throat and was suffocating me with the flag.

I jab and kicked with all my might, but the fact of the matter was, I just wasn't strong enough. My sight was going blurry, and as I tried to get air, my arms began flailing helplessly.

All of the sudden, he wasn't choking me anymore, and as I lay there, regaining full consciousness, a sickening stabbing sound was heard, and commotion ceased. Turning around, I saw Richard, flanked by two other men, holding a bloody sword, with Mr. Druth crumpled to the ground, no longer moving.

Mr. Gibbs came to stand beside me. "Well, that's the end of it. Richard, clean up the body and bury it before the sun comes. Mr. Cotton, please turn us ten degrees to the west. And Miss Delaney, we best be figuring out what to do next."

I stood up shakily and followed him to the cabin, wondering what was to become of us, and of Jack.

* * *

We decided that nothing could really be done. If we were to send word to Dawson, telling of the mistake, he might ask for Mr. Druth to confirm, and seeing as he was no longer available, a fight might ensue. For us to sail as if nothing was happening was really the only way, though now Jack was in grave danger. With these thoughts running through my head, I went into a restless sleep until about mid-morning when cries of surprise woke me.

Stumbling out on to the deck, I came up the Richard, rubbing my eyes awake. "What's wrong? I heard shouting."

He turned to me with a sober face, and my stomach did a few fearful turns. "Dawson's ship. It's fallen behind. Look."

I followed his finger to a distant dot on the horizon, which could only be the _Midas_. "What does it mean?"

Richard shrugged. "Everyone is confused. Last night, when Cotton changed directions, the ship did too. They must have been following us through most of the night, but just _stopped_ around early morning."

"That's when Dawson would have woken up," I sniffed. "He noticed." Collapsing on a barrel, I held my head in defeat. So the _Pearl_ was safe; Jack was probably dead. Taking out the compass, I opened it, fully expecting it to be spinning or pointing elsewhere, but instead, it was still pointing toward Dawson's ship.

Richard was watching carefully. "What does that mean?"

"Jack is still alive," I muttered. "Maybe Dawson didn't care…"

"Man overboard!"

Both Richard and I looked up at the crow's nest, and then down to where he was pointing. Under his breath, I could hear Richard mumbling, "Who was stupid enough to fall over?", but more of my attention was focused on the man floating toward us, or more specifically, on the hat the was now bumping up against the side of the ship.

Gibbs had recognized him too. "Why, it's the Captain! Lower a rope! Quickly, men! And get the hat!"

Soon Jack was on the deck, coughing up water, and clutching his belt. Relief washed over me, and I ran up to him. "Jack! What in the world happened?"

He coughed a few more times before smiling at me. "Get me some rum and a blanket, and I'll tell you."

The requested items were sent for, and almost the entire crew was seated around him, like a kindergarten class waiting to be read a story. Jack took a deep draught from the bottle before looking over the men appraisingly. He was obviously enjoying the attention.

"Well?" prompted Gibbs.

"Well," began Jack, "during my stay at that filthy, rotting ship, I was fortunate enough to be allowed free roam of the deck, provided that there was always someone watching me. Well, it remained like that for most of the time, except for once or twice when Dawson had it in his head that I needed to spend the night in the brig. However, last night was not one of those nights, and as I was sleeping, I awoke with the sense we were not going the same direction. And so I went onto the deck to see for myself."

I snorted. Yeah right he woke with that feeling. He was probably just trying to hunt down a bottle of rum.

"When realizing that we were, in fact, _not_ going due south, I determined that when Dawson saw this, I would most likely be shot. So I set to work disabling the rudder and tearing up the sails, after knocking out the night guard, of course. I finished sometime before dawn, and have been swimming since." He smiled grandly and took another swig of rum before continuing, "We won't have to worry about Dawson any longer mates. However," another drink of rum was taken, "we _do_ have two more ships following us, or Dawson, to be precise. Dear William seems to have taken an interest in this venture, and of course, Barbossa is tracking us.

"The _Dutchman_?" asked Gibbs. "And Barbossa?"

Jack nodded happily. "It seems that we are at a distinct advantage to our enemies with all three objects in our possesion. If we sail fast enough, we can easily lose all three. What d'ye say, men?"

A roar of consensus was heard, and soon everyone was up and working, but I was worried. "Jack, if we lose all three of them, how will anyone know where we are?"

"That's part of the plan, Finn," he answered, patting me on the cheek, "_Trust_ me."

My anger flared at his mocking, and grabbing his shoulder, I hissed, "What about Ella?"

He raised his eyebrows. "What about her?"

"She's with Belmont! If he doesn't get what he wants, he might kill her!"

Jack sighed and began to walk up the stairs to the helm, me trailing frantically behind. "Jack! _Jack_! Aren't you _listening_?"

"Luv," he answered behind his back, "if Belmont is anything like me, which, most likely, he is, then he is _not_ going to kill Ella just because. While certainly not a comfortable position, she is most probably safe with Belmont, for the time being. We'll find the Fountain, and _then_ worry about your bonny lass friend." I glared up at him. "Finn, you worry too much."

"I have good reason to worry. Unlike you, I'm not in this for eternal youth or whatever the Fountain is suppose to give you. I'm in this to save my friend. And I've done a rotten job so far."

Jack just smiled into the brisk wind. "I told you I intend to keep the things I want most, one way or another, and I'm willing to do _anything_ to keep them. Just this once, luv, trust me. Completely."

I narrowed my eyes and folded my arms defiantly. "What's _that_ suppose to mean?"

He laughed. "You're a smart lass. Figure it out."

I was very tempted to slug him, but instead stormed down the stairs, _away_ from Jack. If there was anything I wanted, this adventure certainly was _not_ it.


	32. Island of Dreams

AN: I don't really have much to say, other than...the story is going to be picking up now! This is where all the action begins, and I must say, I really enjoyed writing this chapter. Thank you so much for all of the review and comments! I love knowing what you all think of my story.

As always, enjoy.

* * *

The next two days were fast to go by. Most of the time was spent either sleeping (for me), or watching the _Midas_ warily; even though Jack had successfully disabled the rudder, Dawson had managed to keep just within sight, and was still continuing the follow us. All in all, it was, to put it simply, a frustrating journey.

And none of the crew, save for Richard, was making it any better. I had thought myself fairly knowledgeable on how these men, especially Jack, would act in certain situations. But now was the first time that it truly, honestly, dawned on me that I was traveling with _pirates_. Everyone knew where we were headed, and as the days drew to a close, everyone was jumpy, nervous, twitchy, but most of all unbearably impatient. By the end, I gave up on having any type of conversation with Jack or Gibbs, because after about five minutes of talking, both would start fidgeting uncontrollably and gain a strange glint to there eye; not to mention nearly everything that came out of _anyone's_ mouth was relevant only to the Fountain of Youth. Richard and I, the only two not on this journey for the sake of riches, were spared this strange behavior. Instead, we spent our time considering how we would rescue Ella.

We knew that she was with the Commodore at the moment. We also knew that Jack probably wouldn't wait at the island to meet Belmont, meaning Ella would remain in danger unless we happened to cross paths while searching. But then there was the problem that Belmont didn't have the map, and we did. If Belmont came to far behind anyone to notice where everyone was going, he would be wandering around aimlessly; meaning paths would never cross.

"Jack won't go out of his way to save her," sighed Richard miserably. It was the night before landing, and we were standing next to each other on the railing, watching the clouds drift over the full moon. "Unless you can convince him otherwise."

"I have the same amount of control over him as I do a ball of butter," I grumbled. "And considering the mood Jack has been in the last couple of days…I best not mention anything to him about forgetting the Fountain."

Richard sighed again. "We're going to have to do something."

I nodded. "I suppose we could stay behind and wait for Belmont to show. If Jack was right about Barbossa and Will following us, then there is a good chance Belmont is tracking _someone_. We'd just hide out until everyone has passed. I doubt Belmont will risk dragging Ella along, and if he does, surprise will work too."

Richard started tapping the wood. "It's so strange, how we have all managed to get so tangled in this. I haven't the faintest idea of what will happen next, or where anyone is. It's just so…"

"Messy," I finished. "Yeah, I know. But we haven't much time to consider that, or we'll fall behind." Stretching, I watched the waves pound up against the ship. "We need to be defensible. How many spare swords does Jack have in the hold?"

"None for _you_."

I spun around to see Jack standing there, arms over his chest, and a look between extreme annoyance and amusement on his face. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he yawned, squeezing his way between a baffled Richard and myself, "_exactly_ what I said. You're not getting any sword."

"How else are we to save--"

"Who said anything about either of you saving anyone?"

Richard and I shared a frightened glance. "Captain Sparrow, you can't--"

"Yes, Master Tremaine, I _can_. Like it or not, you are now part of my crew; and my crew happens to be searching for the Fountain, not a girl. As for you," he turned to me and frowned.

"I'm not part of your crew," I spat.

"A fact I'm painfully aware of. However, it does not mean I'm going to let you run off and attempt a rescue single-handedly."

"You can't--!"

"I _can_," Jack answered. "I'm captain."

I clenched my jaw, trying to hold back my anger. But thoughts of Ella hurt, or dead, raced through my head, and all control was lost. "Why you conceited, arrogant monster!" I screamed, raising my fist to punch him square in the jaw.

But Richard beat me to the punch. Literally.

Within seconds, the two were rolling on the deck fighting it out; and it wasn't a simple, school boy tussle either. After suffering a sledge of well placed punches to the mouth and chest, Jack grasped Richard firmly by the shirt and threw him against the railing before jumping on top of him and pounding him on the face.

"_Stop it_!" I screamed, dragging back Jack unsuccessfully; he shoved me to the side and continued to punch with all his strength. Richard may have been in the navy, but Jack was clearly the more experienced street-fighter and would easily injury Richard permanently. Already the blood was flowing from both, and in a last-ditch attempt to stop them, I wedged myself between the two.

I can't really decide whether it was good timing (because I made them stop), or really bad timing, because it hurt like the dickens. Either way, I had managed to stick my body in there when both were attempting a punch; Richard slugging me hard in the cheek, and Jack with a sucker punch to my side.

Not only could I not breathe, but I was seeing more stars than the sky ever had. Collapsing on the ground, I clutched my stomach and felt something wet oozing out next to my head. My chest was screaming in pain, and most of my body felt like it was on fire.

There was a stunned silence, amplified by the fact I wasn't breathing, and for a terrible moment, I was worried they would start fighting again, but I was scooped up gently by Jack. "Finn, are you okay? _Finn_." He shook me slightly, and I gasped in some air desperately.

I could hear Richard stand up next to me. "She needs to be looked at by the doctor."

Jack tilted my head to look at the damage. "She'll be okay, you just got her on the cheek bone. It'll hurt like hell and have a nasty bruise, but that's all."

"What about yours?"

Jack stiffened slightly and touched where he had punched me. I forced myself not to scream; out of the two, Jack's had been harder, and in the more deadly area, no doubt intended for Richard. After all, Houdini had died because of a sucker punch, but I had thankfully remembered to tighten my stomach, protecting my internal organs.

Bending down, he lifted my shirt slightly to inspect the wound. "It'll bruise," Jack muttered. "But I think you'll be okay."

Richard let out a sigh of relief.

Standing up, Jack stared at me. "That was a stupid thing to do. We could have seriously hurt you; in fact, you got rather lucky."

"You two were acting like a couple of bulls," I countered. "It was a stupid fight to begin with."

Jack and Richard looked at each other menacingly. "You know the punishment for this would be death," muttered Jack, "but under the current circumstances, I would think a pledge of loyalty from here on out would suffice."

"Meaning--"

"You can't rescue Ella by yourself, or with her," finished Jack as he motioned to me. The silence given by Richard cemented the agreement, and Jack nodded his approval. "In fact, this one isn't coming."

It was quite clear he was referring to me, and I gaped up at him lividly. "What do you mean I'm not coming? Just because I got a couple of bruises--"

"You weren't coming long before any of this," whispered Jack, shoving me toward his quarters. "Richard, go down to bed."

Richard obeyed, and for the first time, I caught a mutinous glint in his eyes. But I knew that despite his anger, he would never go back on his word. I, on the other hand, would not stop voicing my opinion that easily. "You can't stop me from coming! I _brought_ you here!"

"You've already openly admitting to coming for the sole reason of rescuing your friend," answered Jack, pushing me gently into his cabin. "If you were to come, I have no doubt in my mind that you will attempt some way to go and retrieve her by yourself. Not only that, but there are three different pirate crews that are about to meet together and attempt to gain the Fountain for themselves. I'm not about to let you go into that and die."

I wanted to be viciously angry with him, but the fact he was trying to spare my life softened it a little; however, it did not rid me of it. "You aren't going to save her, if you don't have to."

"I've already told you I keep what I want, by any means possible."

"And?" I glared up at him defiantly.

"What part of 'any means possible' don't you understand?" Jack stepped in closer to me, and I stepped back.

"What in the world is that suppose to mean?" I hissed, but a small knot started forming in my stomach, and it wasn't from the punch.

Jack grinned painfully. "Still don't fully trust me?"

"We've already discussed the circumstances under which I would fully trust you."

"And this doesn't fall under them? You don't honestly think I'm not trying to gain some profit from this?" He smirked this time and stepped closer again, stopping me when I tried to back away. "You don't know me at all, Finn."

"I fail to see how saving Ella would gain you any profit."

He stepped closer again and grasped my shoulders. "Stop acting stupid. You know perfectly well what I'm talking about." Jack grabbed my chin and leaned down, but I jerked away, leaving him to look at me thoughtfully. "You still want to go home. You're scared."

"You want the Fountain more."

Jack didn't respond, but I was glaringly clear that he wasn't denying my comment. Instead, he repeated quietly, "Any means possible."

My temper had boiled to the surface. "How can you say that? How can you believe that you get everything that you want?"

Jack's smirk widened. "Because I always _have_. And it's not going to change now." He leaned in again, but I pushed him away.

"You aren't dealing with objects anymore, Jack."

Ignoring my negative gestures, he took my hand and kissed it lightly before holding it to his cheek. "Why do you think I'm being more careful?"

I swallowed and looked away. He just wasn't playing fair, taking advantage of my emotions like that. How was I suppose to be angry with him now?

Jack led me to his bed. "Get some sleep and give your bruises time to heal. I'll get Dr. Smithers in here to patch you up before leaving in the morning."

I sat down warily. "What about you? Where are you sleeping?"

"My turn for night watch for the next two hours," he answered, going toward the door. Turning around, he winked at me roguishly before leaving. "Sleep tight, sweetheart."

I didn't lay down until he had shut the door, and even after, I lay there staring out his window for a few minutes, everything mashed together in my head. Why did I love him? Nothing about this relationship would work, or at least, that's what practicality said. Yet…there seemed to be something genuine in his behavior, something genuine about him. And no matter how many times I told myself this was a bad idea, he was not the _best_ man, my feelings seemed to grow stronger.

Tears began to drip down my cheeks, stinging the wound. Everything about this situation was horrible, for I already knew what my answer was to be, even before I knew the question. I had, for a long time, dictated many of my actions with sense; Ella had always been the more emotional one out of us two. Jack would have the Fountain; I would want to go home, provided I ever figured out how to make the pocket watch work. He would probably try to make me stay ('any means possible'), but I, in the end, no matter how desperately in love I was with him, would leave. Jack would put me second to the sea, to adventure, to his life before me; and I didn't blame him entirely for it. Left to wander on his own, it was the only life he had really known, and I couldn't possibly expect him to change just for me. Of course, this fact hadn't stopped me from wishing, or falling in love for that matter, but common sense told me it just wasn't possible. I wouldn't allow myself to be number two; that was just the way it was to be.

In the end, the bitter end, I knew I was going to leave Jack.

Though I hadn't wanted to admit it to myself, I was terribly tired, and amidst the tears, I was asleep quickly, a restless and painful slumber. But the last thought I remembered having, despite my previous ponderings, was, "He can lock me in, but he can't stop me from getting Ella."

* * *

I woke up to a loud pounding on the door, and groaning, rolled onto my side, only to bump into something squishy.

I knew who it was before the loud "Captain, wake up!" was heard.

"What happened to the night watch?" I mumbled, already peeved at this early hour that he dared to share the bed.

"Two hours, luv," Jack yawned before sitting up and grinning mischievously. "The bed is big enough for two."

I glared daggers at him before rolling away to the ship wall, remembering why exactly I was in his cabin to begin with. Unfortunately, I rolled onto my bruise, and a hiss of pain escaped my mouth.

"Captain, Smithers is here!" yelled Gibbs through the door.

"Get up, Finn. Need to have a look at those bruises."

I did as asked, still sending deathly looks in his direction as Jack opened the door for Dr. Smithers.

I had only met the man in light conversation, for most of his time was spent in the sick galley, but he had a decent look about him that appeared rather professional, and I felt not the bit worried when he asked to see the wounds.

Lifting my shirt, Jack and Smithers shared a collective gasp, and looking up, I saw that Jack's face had grown paler and definitely guilty. My nasty mood from before was weakening; it was nice to see he was feeling some remorse.

The bruise itself was a nasty purple color lined with black and yellow, and it seemed to have swollen so that it was a quarter of an inch high. Unlike the two men, while in pain, I was intrigued by the wound. Leaning closer, I noticed it seemed to have an outline to it. "Wow, that almost looks like a fist," I commented casually, looking closer.

Then I realized what I had said, and glancing up, I saw Dr. Smithers closing his eyes, and Jack with a hand over his face, already paler than before. "Sorry," I mumbled. "I didn't mean to…never mind. I just find it…interesting."

"Here, drink this," instructed Smithers, grimacing slightly.

I took the cup, and peeking in, saw brown things floating in it. Multiple unpleasant ideas popped into my head. "What is _that_?"

"Willow bark boiled in water. Helps with the pain. _Drink_."

I did as he began spread salve onto my bruise before wrapping it firmly. "This will help with the swelling. I can't do much for your cheek, except spread the salve. Though it doesn't look as swollen."

I touched it lightly, feeling the bump. It sure felt swollen to me.

"Well, that's that," finished Smithers, packing his materials away. "It appears we are about to dock."

"Aye," agreed Jack. "I'll be out there soon."

We faced each other. "I suppose you're locking me in here."

"That was the plan."

I sat on the bed and looked out the window, not saying anything.

Jack kneeled down next to me and took my hand. "No goodbye?"

"You're a fool, Jack."

He laughed softly. "Many have said as much. Now, how about a proper farewell?"

"No."

Jack ignored my answer anyway, and came up to kiss me hard on the mouth. "I'm not going to lose you, Finn."

"What makes you think you have me?" I retorted, tempted to slap him.

Grabbing the compass, which was attached to my belt, he put it in my hand, grinning like a Cheshire cat, but saying nothing before giving me another kiss and waltzing out the door with a loud click (they had replaced the handle after Dawson had blasted it).

I sat there stonily, watching the crew walk onto the pristine shore of Insula Somni, or the Island of Dreams, as the map had labeled it. When the last man stepped off the plank, I opened the compass.

The needle was pointed out the window, right at a certain cocky personage.

I nearly threw it against the floor.

* * *

Jack squinted through his spyglass. The _Midas_ was nearing, though it was going to be another good hour before the reached shore. What worried him was the two dots beyond that, both of which were catching up; Will and Barbossa. But nothing could be done now, except prepare for a struggle. Hopefully, it would only be the four of them on the island, but for some reason, Jack had a distinct feeling that Belmont was following.

"Sharpen your swords well, men," ordered Jack. "And make sure those pistols are in working order. We have a fight coming to us."

Crew voiced their agreement as they did as told. In the mean time…

Jack wandered through the underbrush, holding the map in front of him, this time the side with the enlarged island. At the moment, he was trying to locate the entrance to the maze shown, but with no success. There was a path given, leading to a black dot that symbolized the opening, but no apparent land marks expect for a large rock shaped like a palm tree. And directions. In Latin, of course.

Sighing in frustration, he shook the map. He knew where he had landed on the coast line, but the rest of the map was certainly not to scale. Either he would have to go ask Finn to translate again, or wander aimlessly until he found this oddly shaped rock.

Looking back through the trees at his ship, he rubbed his face. It had to be the wandering.

He allowed himself another forty minutes of crashing around before returning to his crew. Dawson was nearly upon them, and though he had both the map and the emerald key, Jack knew they would not be a good enough bartering chip to get him out of this mess.

* * *

I had spent the last hour attempting the pick the lock.

And to no avail.

Slumping up against the door, I stared blindly at the rest of the cabin. So he had me trapped.

A part of me was reasoning that this was certainly a safer position to be in; no fighting, no bullets, no chance of dying.

However, there seemed to be something ethically wrong with me sitting here pointlessly while my friends and the man I loved (for a reason I had yet to understand) were out there struggling for their lives.

Taking the pocket watch, which Jack had left, I tapped at it a few times. If only I could understand how this worked…it seemed everything would be better. Of course, it really wouldn't be better, but I hated to leave problems unsolved. And this was a really big problem. Along with Jack, saving Ella, getting out of this adventure alive…

I let out a frustrated scream and collapsed onto the bed after sticking the watch into my chemise. This was _ridiculous_. Watching through the window, I saw Dawson docking his ship and row to the cove where Jack and the crew waited, swords drawn and pistols at the ready.

There had to be something.

Studying the window more, I pushed at it; but it didn't give. It too was locked firmly. So I went to the other side of the cabin, which had a smaller port hole, and pushed at this.

It gave.

Pushing harder, I was able to open it a decent amount.

My escape.

Looking down at my outfit, I quickly determined that I couldn't go out in my skirt, or weaponless, for that matter. Or with my hair down. I would be recognized in an instant.

I tore through Jack's belongs, lucky enough to find pants that could fit me well enough, and boots that, when stuffed with some cloth, would fit my feet fine. I wrapped my breasts and put on a vest, and after braiding my hair and stuffing it under a bandanna, I slapped on a worn out hat (rejected by Jack, no doubt), and looked at myself in the large looking glass he had.

What stared back was a small, lanky person with a slender body that looked like it belonged to a lad of fifteen. Passable, for the time being.

After rummaging under his bed, I found a rather nice sword of Jack's, probably a cast away after finding something better. Strapping it on, I glanced out the port hole warily. In the near distance, I could see Will's ship, not but maybe half an hour away. Behind him was the unmistakable out line of the _Flying Fortune_, and behind that, I saw a large dot. Belmont.

My stomach did a few frightened flips as I looked to the ocean below me. So I was going to go and fight. Definitely not the smartest thing to do, but I couldn't sit here and wait. I wouldn't. Too many things I cared about were on the line to be lost, and I certainly would not let them go without a battle.

Getting the shore ought to be fairly simple: the _Pearl_ was docked right next to a very shallow point, and swimming would prove no problem; there was a group of rocks not far from Jack's crew, and if I swam to that and ducked between them, it ought to be easy enough to end up behind everyone.

I lowered myself along the edge of the ship, and after taking a deep breath, let myself drop the last ten feet into the water.

The initial impact seemed extremely loud to me, and the salt water stung my cut cheek, but I ignored it and began to swim. The bruise on my side ached with every movement, but the more I moved, the duller the pain became until it was almost numb.

It was about that time that I arrived at the rock cluster, and as planned no one had noticed me. Looking out, I saw that Will was closer, and Barbossa zoning in. After a few expert ducks, I came to the back of the crew, just close enough the hear the conversation that was taking place.

"--left me!"

Looking around me, I decided that enough men were distracted by the two captains to take much notice in me, so I pushed my way through until I was standing right next to Richard. I nearly shoved him to alert him of my presence, but decided against it; secrecy would be safer if no one knew of my being here, and he hadn't recognized me yet.

Jack smiled at Dawson's remark. "Mate, I knew you were going to kill me. And being the sensible man I was, I took the only…_sensible_ action."

Dawson advanced with the full force of his crew behind him, but Jack raised his pistol. "Don't move another step, or I'll blast your brains out. Savvy?"

Dawson opened his mouth to say something, but it was drowned out by the shot of a gun, and the man next to me fell to the ground screaming.

Jack looked at Dawson, Dawson looked at Jack, Jack looked back at his crew, another shot was fired, and just like that, everyone had their swords out and began fighting.

Being the idiot I was, I stood there for about thirty seconds, crouched over a little, and watching the scene before me with a certain amount of fear, revulsion, and wonder. This was no fight I had seen before; nothing like the attack on Port Royal, and certainly _nothing_ like what I had ever seen in movies. Those are just too choreographed; everything works out perfectly. Here, it was obvious that the situation was do or die, kill or be killed.

And it was scary.

My frightened stupor was broken when a bullet grazed my arm, followed by a huge pirate that I didn't recognize. He brought his sword up above my head, and I backed away, attempting to draw my own. When he brought it down, I finally had a good hold on my own, and I executed a lunge, stabbing him on the shoulder.

I had hoped I wouldn't have to kill any one, but wounding wasn't going to be enough, for despite the blood gushing from his shoulder, the pirate lunged at me again, nearly cutting me in two. Heart racing and head pounding, I brought my own sword around and hit him right on the jugular.

I have never had a problem with blood or gore before, but seeing the man stare at me vacantly while red rushed from his throat made me throw up then and there. After wiping my mouth, I looked up to see another pirate coming at me, and ducking as a blade ran past my head, I stabbed him in the stomach.

It had been years since I had taken a fencing class, but the combination of danger and adrenaline had awaken my old skills, and though I was using a real sword instead of a metal stick, all of my actions were precise and deadly.

I don't know how long I fought before I came across Jack and Dawson. Both had pistols, and appeared to be playing a game of hide and seek between two rocks, except the penalty for being found was death by a bullet. I debated whether to go and help, but a mixture of caution and fear stopped me. It would be bringing a knife to a gun fight; not a position I wanted to find myself in.

Another pirate came at me from the side, and with a quick swipe, I had cut across his chest, successfully stopping him. Looking back up, I saw Jack firing, and Dawson collapsing. So that was that.

"Jack Sparrow!"

I turned to see Will Turner running over, followed by his crew, all of whom were making a sweep of Dawson's crew. In the cove, Barbossa was docking, and I could see rowboats coming.

"Dear William! What is it? I'm a little preoccupied," answered Jack, aiming at another advance man before shooting.

"What is this place?" Will turned around as someone stabbed him from behind, and knocked him out with the hilt of his sword.

"The Island of Dreams, also known as the final resting place of the Fountain of Youth."

"You had the map?"

"I had the map."

Each man faced an approaching foe and began to defend themselves. As for myself, I could no longer listen to their conversation, for a pirate had come upon me as well, and with two more strokes, I was back into the heat of the battle.

* * *

"Don't move," snarled Barbossa to Elizabeth Turner, who at the moment was faced with the barrel of a pistol, held by Ragetti.

The pirate had been in a terrible temper for the past few weeks. He knew that trusting the Turner boy with finding the key was foolish, but he had been walking a thin line when taking Elizabeth. When Will hadn't shown up later with a girl, instead sending a message informing him that the key was not there, Barbossa had nearly killed Elizabeth, but remembered that his crew was mortal, and Will was not. It would be the death sentence for everyone with him.

But it had seemed that the young, immortal captain was going _somewhere_, so he followed blindly. Along the way, the ship had managed to pick up a navy ship, and after some thought and consideration, and speaking with Elizabeth, Barbossa determined that this must be Belmont, the Commodore seeking for the treasure as well. This had not improved his mood in the slightest, for it only added another competitor, other than Jack.

Through Elizabeth, Barbossa had also learned of another pirate captain, Dawson, who was seeking the treasure with Belmont. However, after seeing the _Midas_ docked in the bay, he quickly assumed that Dawson must have broken any bonds with Belmont and gone on his own.

_This might be where the missing key is_, he thought to himself, thinking of Dawson. And from the way everyone had moved so swiftly, this also might be the island that the Fountain was on. Meaning someone had obtained all three items at one point or another. Also meaning that someone had Winifred Delaney.

Sighing in frustration, Barbossa stepped out of the landed boat, grabbing Elizabeth roughly by her hair. There were too many unknowns in this situation; who was sided with who, who had what, where was who…

Spotting Will Turner, Barbossa marched through the sand. Some of the pirates were familiar: Jack Sparrow. And indeed, there he was, fight not but ten feet away from Will. No doubt he had all the answers…

"Captain Turner! I'd like to have a conversation!" Barbossa stuck the pistol under Elizabeth's neck. "And have you run a few…errands for me."

* * *

Elizabeth gasped in pain when Barbossa dug his fingers roughly into her arm. Her stay on the _Flying Fortune_ was little to consider with the situation she was now facing. She knew nothing of what had happened, where they were, or who was here. Jack could be seen fighting, and obviously her husband was here, but those were the only faces recognizable.

"What do you want?" spat Will. He only came five feet close, too scared to cause her death.

"Answers."

"There was no key with Ella, the one I found. And Winnie doesn't have it either."

"Who does?"

"I'd imagine Jack. I was following Dawson, and Dawson was following Jack. He would have all of the items, if he could get here." Will stared at Elizabeth hard, and she thought she could see him shaking slightly. "Let her go now."

"What makes you think I'm giving your wife back," cackled Barbossa. "I want a few things done first, errand boy."

Elizabeth had already made up her mind to attempt to escape, but suddenly, Barbossa toppled over, letting go of her. She scrambled up and ran toward Will, glancing behind only to see a lanky man running away from Barbossa and back into the crowd of fighting men. But her path was cut short when a greasy pirate stopped in front of her. Screaming, Elizabeth duck and tripped the man, grabbed a dagger on the ground, and threw it at him. Will had disappeared as another onslaught of men came toward her, and as she ran, she tripped over a body.

It was then that she realized that her jacket was lost.

Her heart pounded uncontrollably as Elizabeth scanned the sand for her jacket, but everything looked one and the same. That jacket held Will's heart, and it held her entire life.

She wanted to scream, louder than ever before, but instead began to retrace her steps frantically.

* * *

I hurtled over another dead body, and looking behind me one last time, saw that I had lost Barbossa. Upon seeing Elizabeth under his control, I figured that whatever the pirate was up to certainly wasn't good, and she probably didn't want to be a part of it.

Taking my sword once more, I lunged at a pirate charging toward me and cleanly disposed of him. It had taken a while, but now I was at the point where the horror of this all was numbed by my will to survive. My only comfort in this was that these pirates would kill me if I didn't kill them first.

Racing forward, I searched the area, trying to find a familiar face, or at least a clue to when this would stop. We couldn't have been fighting very long; maybe half an hour, but with no end in sight. These men were desperate to get their hands on the Fountain, and greedy enough to fight till the death.

A body bumped into me, and on reflex, I grabbed them by the shirt and spun them around, ready to stab them in the gut. But the alarmed face before was not that of a pirate, but…

"Ella!" I gasped, nearly dropping her.

"Finn!" she cried, wrapping her arms around me. "What are--"

"Move!" I pushed her aside as another pirate came toward us. She grabbed a discarded pistol and threw it at his head, blinding him and I went for the stomach.

"What are you doing here?" she repeated, screaming it above the ruckus. "And dressed like a man?"

"What are _you_ doing here dressed like a man?" I countered, for indeed, she too had her hair piled up and tucked under a hat, complete with trousers and a vest.

"Will told me to stay on the ship!" Another pirate came toward us, and we ducked as we tripped him, sending the man flying over our heads. Running to the side of the fight, we collapsed behind some rocks.

"Will Turner? But what about Belmont?"

"Will rescued me. And you?"

"Jack locked me in his cabin," I explained.

Ella looked at our surrounds quickly. "We've managed to meet each other in the worst possible situations. Twice."

I laughed, but as I did, clutched my side in pain. Ella noticed the gesture, and went pale. "I'm fine," I reassured her. "Just a bruise."

"From where?"

"Doesn't matter." I glanced out to the fight still happening. "I wish I knew where everyone was, and what was happening. I'm so confused."

"Barbossa seemed to think I had a key and got Will to rescue me," explained Ella. "But Will never went to Barbossa, and so he kept following us. How did you guys get here?"

"The map. I had the map and Dawson must have stolen the ruby key from Barbossa. Did you know that the directions are in _Latin_?"

"What? Why?"

"Beats me. Jack figures that the guys who made the map must have been mad; survivors or something from the Spanish, when they looked for it."

"And Latin has to do with this how?" Ella cocked an eyebrow.

I shrugged. "I don't know. Just though you might find the information interesting."

We looked at each other.

And laughed.

Despite the ongoing slaughter that was happening right behind the rock, I couldn't seem to be afraid. Ella was here, safe, sound, and best of all, not with Belmont, but with _me_.

* * *

"Elizabeth!" yelled Will as he raced toward his wife. It was lucky that he had spotted her amongst the still bodies, crawling around on her hands and knees. Praying that she wasn't hurt, he knelt down beside her.

"Will!" she gasped, and grabbing him, pulled him into a kiss before breaking away and crying. "Will! I've lost the heart! Your heart!"

He looked at her, aghast. "Why did you have my heart?"

"I was worried someone would find it in Port Royal, so I took it. I didn't think I would get kidnapped again!"

Will stood up swiftly and looked around. "What was it in?"

"My jacket, in the side pocket. Oh, Will, I'm so sorry!"

Will wanted to say that it was okay, she had done nothing wrong, but this was his _heart_ they were talking about. All he could do was give her a painful smile, kiss her, and look again. "What color?"

"Blue. _There it is_!"

They raced to where Elizabeth pointed, and she shoved her hand inside. But as her face went a deathly pale, Will knew it wasn't there. "It fell out," was his quiet comment.

"It has to be near here!" she screamed frantically. "It can't have gotten--"

She stopped, and Will turned, only to see a man raising a dagger to his heart, not but ten feet away.

* * *

Dawson was no fool. He had heard the stories of the _Dutchman_ and Davey Jones, almost since before he could walk.

Jack has misaimed by a fraction of a hair in his shot, leaving Dawson to bleed to death.

He was barely able to comprehend what the young couple was screaming at each other, but it had been enough when he saw the beating heart laying there innocently in the sand. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together…

And this was his ticket at a new life.

Looking at the women, Mrs. Turner, he grinned maliciously and stabbed the heart; the last sounds he heard before going into unconsciousness were the agonizing shrieks of the young lady, and the last image he saw was her face streaming with hot tears, as she cradled her now dead beloved.

* * *

Jack wiped his face as he rested momentarily. This fight was more than he had bargained for; it had been a foolish hope that he would have Dawson sorted out before Barbossa arrived, but a hope nonetheless. Now he simply prayed that most of his crew was still standing.

Looking at the shore before him, saturated with bodies, he grimaced. At least Finn wasn't here, the stubborn fool she was. She would have been dead in minutes.

Turning back to the fight at hand, Jack was met with a strange sight.

People _weren't_ fighting.

He frowned, looking around in confusion. There appeared to be navy men surrounding the area with their muskets…

Ah, yes, Belmont.

Looking around again, he watched as pirate after pirate set down their sword. Now, how had Belmont, with at most one hundred men, managed to put at least four hundred men to their knees?

"Jack Sparrow, I suggest you drop your sword. _Now._"

The voice had come from behind him, and though he didn't recognize it, he knew to whom it belonged.

"Commodore Belmont, I hardly find you in the position to order me to--" Jack turned and stopped speaking abruptly.

In front of him was the Commodore, and held by him was a smaller figure dressed as a man, but with dark brown hair that was tumbling around her shoulders. She swallowed and looked at him with pleading, sorry eyes.

"Sword, Sparrow. Or Miss Delaney dies."

Jack gritted his teeth. "What are you doing here?"

"Do I honestly need to answer that--ah!" Finn hissed as Belmont's dagger cut into her throat, also cutting her remark short.

"_Sword_, Sparrow."

His weapon landed with a dull thud to the ground, and two more navy officers took his shoulders. Looked at Finn once again, he was met with a helpless and frightened gaze, and she mouthed the words, _I'm so sorry_, before Belmont turned her away.

He looked at the ground, breathing heavily, now finally noticing just how tired he was. They were captives now, the Fountain was lost, and if anyone stepped over the line set by the Commodore, they were all going to die. _How could she have been so stupid_?

"As of this moment on," announced Belmont to the now kneeling crowd. "I am taking over this…operation. My rules, my game. And _no one_ is to question me. Are we all understood?"


	33. One Way Out

AN: I'm baaaack...ha ha, I just got back from vacation, so now I can write. Sorry for having to postpone this! But now we are beginning the search for the Fountain!

This particular chapter is dedicated to my best friend, who is always there for me.

As always, enjoy.

NOTE: For the staff and the rock face later on, think about those bridges that can be brought up to let boats under, and then be brought back down to let cars across. It's the same motion, just with a large wooden pole.

* * *

I gasped in air as quickly as I could; not only was I extremely tired, but fear was gripping every part of my body, strangling my breath and motions. Ella and I had managed to pick the _worst_ possible spot to rest and talk. While it was hidden from the fight, it was in plain view of Belmont's docking ship, and he was upon us before we had time to react.

Which left me in this situation now.

I felt like the dust of the earth, to quote the Bible. It was now I saw the wisdom in Jack's actions, for now was when I became the path to everyone's death. Belmont knew my connections with everyone here: Ella as a friend, Elizabeth as a friend, Will as the innocent who shouldn't be killed, Barbossa as a part of the puzzle to the treasure, Dawson as the map, and Jack as…well, I wasn't sure if Belmont was aware of it before, but surely he had made the connection now. Jack's eyes told everyone as he looked at me with infinite despair, disappointment, and panic.

I felt rotten, like scum. And I knew we had lost. Whatever advantage we had held before, I had lost it for everyone I held dear.

"I need I count of heads," ordered Belmont. "Jack Sparrow, how about your crew?"

Jack gulped and plastered on an innocent face. "Aye, Commodore, but what of your own men?"

"They are all fully alive and well, thank you. How many are left? Half? Quarter?" Belmont sneered as he surveyed the carpet of bodies strewn across the sand, and I, after seeing it from this perspective, realized just how horrible and bloody the fight had truly been. More people were dead than originally thought, and from the expressions gracing most faces, my opinion was not shared alone.

Jack turned to face the remaining, standing men. After about three minutes, he answered with a sober face, "Between a half to three quarters."

"Good. Men," the Commodore motion with his head, and two men grabbed Jack and forced him roughly to his knees, kicking him in the stomach as well as hitting him over the head with the butt of a rifle. He moaned softly, and I could see him wincing.

I let out a startled scream before Belmont clasped his palm over my mouth. Whispering in my ear, he threatened, "You make _any_ mistake or wrong move, he dies. Understand, Miss Delaney?"

My breath came at uneven intervals as I nodded. Looking at Jack, I tried to make eye contact, tried to show that I was sorry, _so sorry_, for everything, that I didn't want to lose him, that I was sorry, just sorry…

But he didn't look up. He just stared at the ground, hardly moving, slumped over like a hunchback. His hat had fallen off his head and was laying on the ground; he wasn't bothering to pick it up.

I wanted to cry, scream, yell, tear my heart out, anything to rid me of this pain and guilt. The entire sandy field of people, standing there like dead men, staring vacantly at their captors; all of it was my fault. If only I had stayed on the ship, Belmont wouldn't be able to use me like this, Jack would have a chance of making it out alive…

"Barbossa, your crew?"

Barbossa stood only a few feet away, and was not bothering to hide the loathing looks he sent in my direction. "Most of my crew is here."

"Dawson?"

Silence.

"Dawson!" barked Belmont.

From the crowd emerged three men and Gibbs, who was now supporting a sobbing Elizabeth.

"Well?" asked the Commodore impatiently.

One man stepped forward. "Dawson is…unreachable right now."

"Dead?" prompted Belmont.

"Not…quite." The man looked back at Elizabeth. "Captain William Turner was here. He, um, replaced Davy Jones about nine months ago. As events have transpired…Dawson is now the new captain of the Dutchman."

A collective gasp was heard through the pirates, but not even a muscle twitched on the Commodores face. "Which means?"

The three men looked at each other; clearly the Commodore wasn't aware of the myth (truth), and to explain it would be fruitless. "Dawson is indispensable…permanently. Most of his crew was…annihilated. Only thirty are left."

Jack's face changed into a painful grin, though his eyes never left the ground.

"And this Captain Turner?"

"His crew is…also permanently indispensable. All of them. And he himself is dead."

I was shaking from all the possible miserable emotions ever experienced. Elizabeth had lost her husband. Her life had just been taken away, though she was still living. What this my responsibility as well? Had I caused that? Who was I to know what ripples I had created by coming?

"Very well," mused Belmont. "Everyone here is to stay here, except for Miss Delaney, who is come with me. And Jack Sparrow."

"Commodore?" asked a nearby officer. The look in his eye was less than hopeful, the same type of look one gives when one does not want to do something.

"Exactly as I ordered," Belmont snarled. "They are all criminals. Is this not your job?"

Other officers were looking uneasy as well. "What about trial? Surely some of these…" The officer who had spoken before glanced at Elizabeth and Ella.

Trial? Trial for what? And what was this about criminals?

Then, the obvious floated into my head.

Belmont was going to massacre them. All of them. Everyone here knew too much. And he, against two strong pirate crews, was at too much of a disadvantage. He was going to wipe them out while he held all the aces. I was going to survive because of the map; Jack would stay alive long enough to serve his purpose as leverage, and then most likely we would both die as well.

"No!" I gasped. "You aren't getting the map or the treasure unless everybody comes!"

Belmont twisted me around, smacking my head. "That's a brash comment to make, considering your position."

"Consider your own," I challenged. "Your men don't want to carry out your orders. It's murder, and they know it. They aren't villainous like you. They're good people who honestly want to help others." Belmont grabbed my throat, but I wasn't done talking, and squeezed out the rest in the scratchy voice of someone being choked. "At any rate, their out numbered. The pirates are being cooperative now, but once you leave, all hell will break loose. Do you honestly think the pirates aren't going to fight, even if it means hand to hand combat? Your men are outnumbered two to one easily, and they'll lose. Who are you going to have to come back to? Pirates? You'll be dead as well."

"Not if I have the Fountain of Youth," snarled Belmont. He eyes glowed with red, a crazed, horrible color.

"It's the Fountain of _youth_, not immortality. It won't make you invincible."

This, of course, was a last ditched attempt at surviving. I was determined to live through this, to make it right, _somehow_. Everything that had come out of my mouth was hurried speculation mixed in with a great deal of bull.

_And it worked_.

For the first time, fear entered into the Commodore's expression. True, honest fear. Why, I didn't know. How, I couldn't fathom. But it was there. And it was strong.

He glanced at the men surrounding him, pirates and navy men alike. "Change of plans. We go. Everyone. I want two men on Sparrow, Barbossa, Miss Bronte, Tremaine, Mrs. Turner, and on the captain's respective quarter masters. Everyone else is to keep the remaining crews in check. If _anyone_ steps out of line, I assure you, a bloodbath will commence. Now, the map. Sparrow?"

Jack, after some rough jabs from the soldiers, retrieved the map and handed it to Belmont. I wasn't hardly paying attention though. We were alive, for the moment. But once Belmont had the Fountain, what would keep him from killing us then? Nothing. I needed to think of something, anything, to keep us alive. Everyone alive.

A frustrated snarl ripped from Belmont's mouth. "Latin? _Latin_? Why on earth…?"

I looked up. "You can't read Latin?"

Belmont glared at me, though from the glare, I made a guess that I was sure wasn't far off the mark. Sure, he had been educated in the classics, but like any average student, probably forgot the material once he no longer needed it. And Latin wasn't an easy subject to remember.

"And you can?" he asked.

"How do you think we got here?"

Belmont stared at me for a moment before shoving the parchment into my hands. "Start translating."

He released me, and I collapsed onto the ground next to Jack. On my hands and knees, I tried to look at his eyes, but he stared at the ground, ignoring my pleading look. I had dropped the map, and as I leaned over to pick it up, I whispered so only he could hear, "I'm going to keep us alive, Jack. You're going to get your fountain. I promise."

Nothing. It was like talking to a statue.

Upon seeing his lack of reaction, lack of recognition, I let out a miserable sob before Belmont hoisted me roughly back up. Pointing a pistol at Jack, he ordered, "Translate. And _don't_ delay."

I looked at the map, studying the large island and the maze within. I hadn't taken much time to look at this side before, and some of the directions were a little confusing. Five minutes later, Belmont clicked the pistol to fire, and I began saying the directions shakily, hoping that they were right.

"Okay, I think--"

"You _think_?" he snarled. I paled and stepped back as he shoved the pistol into my face. "I don't have time for guesses."

"Leave her alone!" shouted Ella defiantly, struggling against her own two men. She had managed to pull herself right up next to me, and after two well placed kicks to the soldiers, released herself and flanked me on my right. "Don't rush her and she can do it right!"

"Watch your tongue, Miss Bronte," he growled, now pointing the pistol at her.

"Don't hurt her!" I ordered, stepping directly in front of Ella. "And give me another moment, and I'll have this part translated."

Belmont narrowed his eyes, but un-cocked the pistol and pointed it back at Jack.

Ella took my hand and squeezed it reassuringly. I looked at her only to see a warm smile and comforting, kind eyes. Eyes that had helped me through every problem during our long friendship. And I knew that, no matter what happened from here on out, no matter if all other people forsook me, if Jack were to never speak to me again, if I were to lead us to our deaths despite everything I could possibly do to prevent otherwise, Ella would stand by me. She would stay. With her, I was not alone, and that though lifted me from my desperation. I was not alone. I had Ella.

I returned the smile and looked back at the Latin. "Okay," I breathed, "we need to walk about…one hundred to the west from…the large circle rock." I looked up and down the shore line. Large circle rock? What this suppose to be a riddle?

Barbossa apparently had been looking as well, because he said, "Over there, to the left. It's by that tall palm tree."

Belmont shoved me forward, and Ella followed behind me, still holding my hand. Only a few paces away was that palm tree, and as I approached it, I saw carved deeply into a huge boulder three circles, one being about five feet in diameter, and the other two inside the first. "Large circle rock," I muttered. "Okay, hundred feet that way."

I began walking west, and the entire group followed. Looking behind, I watched us, moving like a herd of buffalo. If Jack had three quarters left, Barbossa with most, and Belmont with all his men, then there must have been at least three hundred and fifty men following me. I gulped. Ella, sensing my faltering, squeezed my hand again.

"Okay, now we go three hundred feet directly inland," I announced once we had reached our destination. Looking into the trees, I could detect a small opening through the leaves and foliage, one that looked like a path. "Which means we are going directly north. When we stop, we should be at the Rock of Palms. Does anyone have a compass?"

I was given the desired item, and quickly began my trek through the lavish green. Sunlight was blocked so that the dense jungle became almost tunnel-like, with a patch of light every once in a while. Strange bird calls were heard that mixed with the crunching feet of everyone who followed, and the breathing was loud, amplified by the lack of conversation. Fear hung heavy in humid air, along with the sweat and mosquitoes that crawled all over the clothing and skin.

My mind felt numb; numb with fear, numb with hate, numb with sorrow. Behind me, I could sense Jack, but only his presence. He wasn't looking at me, wasn't acknowledging my existence. The hurt and pain was overwhelming at the thought. I had, unintentionally, betrayed him. Hurt him. Trapped him. Sentenced him to his death. It felt like I was drowning in my misery; as if I was in the storm again.

But this time, Ella wasn't disappearing. This time I wasn't alone.

And that's why I kept walking. No matter what came, Ella was there. We were together once again, and though our lives were in peril, I still felt a ray of hope. Of joy. Of comfort. As long as she was with me, I could drag by beaten mind and body through this trial.

We reached the Rock of Palms (a large boulder with stick figure palm trees carved into it). Belmont looked at me expectantly. "Well?"

I shrugged. "It just says enter next to a black mark to the right of the rock. We need to look for the entrance."

Belmont snatched the map out of my hands and glared at it, as if expecting his stare to make the answer jump at him from the parchment. "The _mark_ is not only located to the right of the rock, but on something that looks like a _cliff_." He shoved the map back at me, making me stumble and fall onto my bottom. "_That_ cliff." His finger pointed toward a small outcrop of rocks with a smooth face. At the base of it was large round rock. That rock was in the same place at the mark on the map.

The Commodore took a clump of my hair and dragged me up and toward the rock, behind me Ella screaming something about letting me go, and dumped me right in front of the rock. "Enter," he hissed.

"Move the rock and I will," I snapped back, struggling to my feet.

Four soldiers approached and with grunts and moans, they rock inched away to reveal a dark, foreboding hole. However, they couldn't keep the rock away, for it was uphill on both sides. There was debate whether the soldiers should stay there until everyone came back, but after careful examination, one of the other soldiers announced that he had found a strange device that looked like it was made to hold the rock. It was a staff of wood that seemed to be connected to the rock face itself, but when two other soldiers pulled it down, a curved metal pole came from the rock face, and a clicking sound was heard as the staff was pulled farther down until it was in a position to stop the rock from falling.

Belmont shoved me forward, placing a torch in my hand. "Forward, Miss Delaney."

I peeked down the hold, and images from _Indiana Jones_ began coming to my mind: people losing limbs, heads, eyes, people melting, people turning into dust. I paused, wondering whether I should voice my fear, but then reasoned that if I wasn't going first, one of my friends would. And I wasn't about to kill anyone else.

So, with a frightened gulp, I stepped into the cave.

Nothing happened.

I looked behind me expectantly, and Ella came forward as well, taking my arm. Whispering into my ear, she said, "Ready for another adventure? Find the buried treasure?" Despite her light tone, I could see the fear in her eyes.

I played along anyway. Looking down at the map I pointed to a large X. "And here I was thinking that X never, ever marks the spot."

She smiled, I smiled, and we walked forward. Following behind us were the rest of the men, soldiers holding torches to light the way.

The tunnel wasn't large, or high. Many of the men had to bend down, and I was crouching a little. One would think that with my face that much closer to the ground I would notice where I was going but…

SPLAT!

Tripping over something, I landed flat on my face. My head began to ring, but mixed in with the ringing was the sound of shouting down the tunnel.

"Finn! Are you okay?"

Though Ella was speaking to me, my mind was focusing more on the yelling.

_"It closed!"_

_"The rock!"_

_"Push!"_

"What happened to the rock?" I gasped.

Belmont picked up my torch, he face twisted into a scared and crazed expression. "The rock is over the opening. We can't get out."

I gaped up at him, and followed where his finger pointed to a line of twine that was strung across the walkway. The reason for my tripping. And probably the reason for the rock falling back into place.

"How…?" Ella leaned down to pulled the twine but nothing happened. Clearly she had come to the same conclusion as Belmont and myself.

"The pole!" I moaned, realization dawning on me. "That clicking sound meant that the pole was being locked into place. When this twine was pulled, it undid the lock, and the pole went flying back into the rock face."

Ella stared at the twine, then back at me. "It wasn't your fault."

She knew my expressions too well, because already I could feel the guilt drowning me again. But at her comment, practical reason came to me as well. Anyone would have tripped on that. It was a booby trap.

"Okay, Belmont, tell your men to watch out for any traps along the tunnel. We need to be careful. This was designed to keep people away from the Fountain."

He grabbed my throat and lifted me against the wall, scratching my back and head. "You best figure out how to get use _there_ then. Or," he pointed his pistol at Jack again, then at Ella.

I dropped to the floor, slightly dizzy and disoriented. I could feel blood trickling down my back, no doubt from the rock I had been rubbed up against, but gritted my teeth and tried to ignore all the pain that was pulsing through me. My cheek was hurting worse than ever, and my side was throbbing so much it was nearly numb. Closter phobia was setting in, but I forced myself to push it away. I could ignore the feeling of being trapped for now.

Ella helped me up, and taking my torch from Belmont, I stared down the musty tunnel warily. "Only one way out now, I suppose."

"At least we won't get lost," mumbled Ella.

I sighed as I trudged on. "Don't bet on it."


	34. Traps

AN: Hmm...don't have much to say...except this begins the countdown to the end. Only three more chapters! Ha ha...I am so excited...

Oh, and thank you to those who are still reviewing...I LOVE reviews! Please keep giving them!

As always...enjoy.

* * *

We must have walked only for ten minutes before coming to the first trap.

For me it felt like an eternity.

My mind was numb, as with most of my body at the moment. I couldn't think about anything; not Jack, though there was still a lingering feeling of sorrow warping around me like a heavy blanket. Not Belmont, and how he had it in his head to murder us all. Not how to escape from this death sentence. The only thing that remained in my head was to put one foot in front of the other, and that Ella was still walking by my side.

Nothing seemed real; no real danger, no real threat, no real problem. Just a hazy walk down the tunnel.

Then came the trap.

I stopped, initially because the bruise on my side was no longer numb, but burning painfully, making it hard to breathe. But then I realized that, about twenty steps ahead of us, the floor abruptly turned from packed dirt to stone. I stopped Ella, grabbing her collar.

"Don't move," I croaked. "Something is different. And I don't trust it."

Belmont halted behind me. "Good. A decent pathway." He shoved me forward. "Keep moving."

I turned around. "It's different. Doesn't that make you in the least bit suspicious? This maze was designed to keep people away." I faced the stones again and, glancing to the side, noticed a small stone pillar. Peeking in, I saw something liquid, and I dipped my torch in, setting the oil on fire. The orange streak raced down the wall, illuminating the left side of the tunnel, which, now that everything could be seen, had increased significantly when the stone pathway began. The light kept burning onward till it disappeared behind a curve, after which, the stone suddenly gave way to a dirt path again.

Yeah, it was suspicious.

"Nobody go onto the stone until I've finished understanding the instructions," I ordered, for indeed, after studying the map closer, a small picture had been drawn resembling the stone pathway, and a paragraph of instructions was put neatly to the side.

Surprisingly, everyone obeyed, and I stood there with my torch, trying to make any sense of the words in front of me. No matter the way I turned it around in my head, the words had no rhyme, no reason (even in Latin).

_Like the Gates of Hell, this path doth lead_

_To pass and live, your feat shall be_

_Touch not your soul to jealously or rage_

_Nor the royal cloak of kingdoms twain_

_But give your soul to the Blood of the Lord_

_And the Light of the Spirit_

_If thou fail, the spears of the devil_

_Shall cast your soul into the pit of sorrow _

"It doesn't make sense," I moaned, slumping up against the wall.

Ella came over. "What does it say?"

I repeated the stanza to her, and she, along with Belmont, Richard, Elizabeth, and Barbossa (all within the vicinity) frowned.

Jack, once again, hardly raised his head.

"That doesn't sound like something a native would write," commented Richard after a pause. "All that business about God and the Spirit."

"They didn't. the Spaniards wrote this. The ones who survived, anyway. And they were crazy." I glanced at Jack, the person who had told me of the stories. He was looking at the pathway now, and where I had perceived practically no emotion, I saw rage. Frustration. Betrayal.

I grimaced and buried my head into the map again, Ella squeezing my shoulder with comfort.

A group of pirates came forward, apparently listening to me as well. "So, we just pray, and then we walk across?" Their eyes looked at me for an answer.

"Doubtful. Natives made the maze; the Spanish just wrote how to get through. Of course, they managed to make so cryptic its practically impossible--"

I was cut short as the same group of pirates ignored my comment and began to walk across.

WHOOSH!

Only two men were able to touch the stones before the same two were suddenly speared by, well, spears, hurtling the bodies to the right side of the tunnel, only to disappear into a pit. A pit no one had noticed until now. The spears themselves had come from the left side, where the light was, and, though it was hardly discernable, small circles could be seen lining the wall.

Belmont peeked over the pit. "So the spears of the devil and the pit of sorrow are literal. What does the rest mean?"

I stood up and shrugged. "I don't know. I just don't know."

Belmont began to laugh, a horrible, maniacal laugh that made my blood run cold. "Well, I don't have all day to spend sitting here in the tunnel. I give you five minutes to figure this out, or," he grabbed Ella from my side, "she walks across without any instructions. Do I make myself clear?"

I my heart leapt into my throat. "Please, don't! I'll figure it out, I just need time. Its just a riddle."

"Once she goes, then so will everyone else you hold dear until a path has been figured out," continued Belmont, his voice getting harsher and harsher.

I paled, staring at Ella. She was staring back. "Read it again. Slowly."

I did as told.

My mind was numb. "I don't _get_ it. Why emotions? Why…?"

Ella was quiet for a brief moment. "The Spaniards were Catholic, right?"

"Yes." My hands were shaking. I needed to focus. Just focus.

"Catholicism uses a lot of symbols. Right?"

Symbols. Religion. "Yes."

Ella walked toward the stone pathway. "The emotions are symbolizing something. Look at the stones."

I came next to her and grasped her hand, just to make sure was really there. The stones, actually, were not just gray stones, but multi-colored; green, red, yellow, purple, and orange to be exact. It was paint that gave the color, and much had chipped away, but each was still a distinct color. They appeared to be in no particular order.

"The colors," I croaked. "But…"

"What are the things in the instructions?" prompted Ella.

"Jealousy, rage, royal cloak, Blood of the Lord, Light of the Spirit."

"Okay, okay…"murmured Ella. And then she smiled. "Jealously is green.

I nodded. Obviously. How could I not see that before? Oh, right; I was going into shock at the thought of losing everyone. No wonder my head wasn't working properly.

"Red is the blood. And yellow, I think, would be the light. But…purple…"

"Royal cloak," I answered hoarsely. "Purple was the symbol of royalty."

"Okay. Than orange would be rage. There. Touch not your soul, or feet, to green, orange, or purple. Only red and yellow."

She smiled. "Follow me."

I nodded helplessly, and closed my eyes as she stepped on the first safe stone, a yellow. Nothing happened. Then she stepped on another yellow. Same.

I could feel my blood returning to my appendages, which were previously freezing with fear. Ella was safe. Safe. Safe…

I followed quickly, desperate to stay by her side. The yellow and red stones led a zigzag path across, a pattern I was surprised that I missed. Now that the puzzle was solved, everything was so clear and…_evident_. How could I have had missed the symbols? I had taken two AP English classes, for pete's sake. I should know all about symbols.

Despite knowing that yellow and red were safe, the whooshing sound of spears was still heard; either from people tripping, or thinking they could get across the other colors if they just went fast enough. Every time a spear left from its holding place, my heart stopped, praying it wasn't someone I knew. But I didn't dare turn back and look.

The crossing to the other side seemed to stretch on forever, and once I collapsed next to Ella, I realized it had taken no time at all, maybe seven minutes. Belmont arrived with Jack stumbling in front of him, and I had an urge to run up and hug him, but our eyes met, and all I saw was anger. Of course he was angry at me, I got us into this mess. Or so it seemed.

Suddenly, I became livid, viciously and irrevocably livid, at the thought that he dare blame _me_ for all this. Who knows what could have happened?

But, yet, I couldn't seemed to stay angry at him.

The two emotions fought in my head, battling it out as men continued to cross the stones. I was infuriated, yet miserable and guilty. I gritted my teeth and shut my eyes, trying to block _everything_ out. The pocket watch…if only I could figure out how to work it, I could leave. Ella and I could leave. And Richard, probably. Ella wouldn't go anywhere without him. I'd save everybody, and then we'd leave. Disappear. I would never have to speak to Jack again.

The thought of that wrenched me, because I _did_ want to speak with him again. I wanted him to smile, wanted him to be his ridiculously cocky self and insisted that we were going to get out of this because he was Captain Jack Sparrow. I wanted him to laugh, insult Belmont, talk about how wonderful his ship was. Anything but this.

Ella placed a hand on my cheek. "Get up, Finn. You look like your dying."

I opened my eyes, and a few tears fell onto my shirt. "We're going to make it out alive." The promise was hollow, but I had felt compelled to say it.

"I know."

"I'm going to get us home. Our real home."

Ella's eyes held the faintest shadow of doubt, but it went away and was replaced by hope. "I know."

"I want things to be normal again. I want to go to college."

"I know."

I closed my eyes and breathed, slow and steady. I needed to focus. Don't think about anyone except Ella. Don't think about anything but the map. I could trust both at the moment to not give me pain. They were the things that could help. And help was what I needed.

Elizabeth came over, tailed by her two guards. "Here, Winnie, let me help you up." I took her outstretched hands and heaved myself to standing position. Her eyes were miserable and pained, and suddenly I felt very selfish. Yes, Jack was ignoring me, but I hadn't lost a husband. Elizabeth had, and I could still see a glimmer of determination and strength in her face. She had been through much worse, and was still standing.

"How are you?" I asked. It was a stupid question, but it had occurred to me that we hadn't seen each other for at least two months, maybe longer.

Elizabeth sighed. "I'm alive. I'm amazed at the problems I manage to land myself into."

I gave a halfhearted smile. Yes, we were alive. Looking at Ella and Elizabeth, I could feel vigor and faith returning. I wasn't alone.

Belmont surged through our little group, snatching my sleeve, and dragging me roughly to the front again. "We continue, Miss Delaney."

I straightened the map and put my torch out in front of me. Ella had found herself to my side again, and Elizabeth was behind me with Richard next to her. This was possible. I could do this.

* * *

We walked again, this time for maybe fifteen minutes, until we came upon a strange sight. A pond was in front of us, clear and flawless.

_Very_ suspicious.

I studied the phrase etched next to the small drawing of the pond before announcing it to everyone.

"_The path is straight and narrow_

_But hidden to those_

_Who seek the easy path of the Devil_

_Who shall never escape his burning fury_"

Everyone was silent, no longer daring to touch the water, not after the stones. My accusations of these things being dangerous were no longer being taken lightly.

"So…we're looking for a path?" asked Barbossa, who had joined the small circle surrounding me. "A straight and narrow path? Or is this another moment of symbolism?"

"I don't know," I growled, peeved that he was even close to me. I was still a little bitter after what happened at the ball, and though he was no longer trying to kill me, I hardly trusted him.

He raised an eyebrow in amusement. "I am simply trying to offer my services, Miss Delaney."

I wanted to say I had no need of his services, but clamped my mouth shut before anything could escape. I'd probably regret it later. "I'm wondering what part the pond plays in this."

Ella leaned over it curiously. "It doesn't smell like water…I mean, not really a smell…but…" she got as close as she could without touching it. "It's not…humid. It's not water."

I came next to her and sniffed. "Acid. It's acid, I'm almost sure of it."

Confused looks met me as I turned around, and I tried to remember how much science was available to these people, though I stopped as quickly as I started, and instead explained, "The pond will burn you. Don't touch it."

"So the pond is the burning fury…" speculated Ella.

"And most likely also the easy path," added Elizabeth. "But where is the safe path?"

I looked down the middle of the pond. "The safe path is hidden to those who seek the easy path. We don't look at the pond. We need to look elsewhere."

The absurdity of my remark hit everybody at the same time, and upon turning to face the large crowd, I recieved many blank or frustrated stares. The pond surrounded the entire tunnel for at least a hundred feet. There was no _where_ to walk.

Behind me I heard a horrified gasp from Ella, and turning, saw Belmont shove Richard forward, and then point his pistol at Ella. "Five minutes, Master Tremaine."

My face went white, but Richard's became the same shade as a ghost. I could see him muttering the instructions, his lips twitching frantically. He stared at the pond.

Why Richard? Why not me? I was the one with the map. As I stared at Belmont with fury and horror, I realized something. This man was mad. There was no reasoning behind anything he did. Sure, he could pretend to be sane and collected, but inside he was crazy. Insane.

"Not to the middle. That's the easy way," I reminded, coming next to Richard. He needed help, just as much as I desperately needed support. "The first thing anyone would think to do is swim. What would be the last?"

"I…I don't know," he moaned. "There isn't another way. Just this…pond."

"Three minutes," warned Belmont gleefully.

I took Richard's hand. "You can't give up; you don't quit. I know that. We need to think. What would be the _last_ possible thing we would even think of? Even if it seemed impossible?"

Richard stared at the place blankly. "I don't…" he swallowed the rest of the sentence, then closed his eyes, obviously thinking hard. "Scale the wall. _That's_ impossible."

I looked to the left side of the tunnel, where the line of fire stood, the same I had lit at the stone pathway. Nothing was there. The other side, the right side, had nothing but vines in the way. Nothing there.

"One minute."

Ella let out a quiet sob before clasping her mouth. I looked at her fearfully, then back at Richard. But he was no longer where I had left him. He was walking toward the vines.

"Straight and narrow, right?" He pushed the vines away from the wall to reveal a tiny strip of stone protruding from the edge of the wall. "Very narrow. We need to hold the vines to stay on."

Behind me Belmont un-cocked his gun. "It seems all you need is the right motivation. Men, onward."

Richard went first, and I followed, careful to do exactly as he was doing. We were able to traverse the ropes course in safety, and so were Ella, Elizabeth, Jack, and (unfortunately) Barbossa. Belmont nearly slipped, and for a split second, a wonderful, glorifying second, I thought we were freed, but, a man behind him caught the Commodore.

Most everyone was able to cross in relatively good time; there were the three unfortunate souls who tripped and fell into the pond. They never surfaced.

Gritting my teeth again, I looked down the tunnel. The torches were no longer needed, because of the strip of light on the left, but I still held mine out anyway. There was more. And I was scared.

* * *

"It's…it's a riddle. At least I think it is," I mumbled, almost too softly for anyone to hear. We were now standing in front of a horrible sight: four ropes, all attached to the ceiling in some fashion. Beyond that, directly beyond that, was a large chasm.

"Well?" prompted Belmont greedily. "What _is_ the riddle?"

"_Thou Shall Not Kill_

_Though Kill is correct_

_To cross the way _

_And save the soul_

_Or thou wilt fall _

_Into the bottomless pit _

_The devil hath made_

_To destroy us all_."

I stared at the stanza. "Thou-Shall-Not-Kill. All of those are capitalized; or that's their translated equivalent. And kill is capitalized again." Now I stared at the ropes. "Kill. Ropes." I turned to Ella helplessly, but didn't dare say I saw no connection.

Sensing my need for at least some encouragement, she leaned over the map, and then looked at the chasm. "Bottomless pit? Well, that's probably literal. And to cross the way…that sounds like a bridge." She looked up at me questioningly.

I nodded in agreement. "So…we chose a rope, I suppose…and…pull?"

Ella looked at the ropes again. "Yeah, I guess. What else can you do with ropes?"

"So the wrong one--"

"Ones," she corrected.

"--ones lead to the pit, while the right one gives us the way to cross."

"That sounds pretty close. Very Indiana Jones."

"Very Holy Grail," I agreed.

We glanced over to Belmont, Barbossa, Elizabeth, Richard, and surprisingly Jack, all who were in hearing range of our conversation. The expression was the same: unabashed confusion.

I smiled, or at least as much as the situation allowed. "Don't worry. We understand each other. We have the connection."

More blank stares. Despite the obvious lack of comprehension from just about everyone, I couldn't help but feel…less stressed. Just talking with Ella was making things better. If only she had been their for the past four years…how much easier it would have been…

"Then what is this business about 'thou shall not kill?'" asked Barbossa.

"Advice to you," mumbled Ella under her breath. I almost choked from not laughing.

He waited, clearly not able to her Ella's comment.

"I…am not…entirely sure. It's a riddle," I answered after collecting myself, as if that explained everything.

"That is apparent, Miss Delaney," growled Belmont, shoving his way past Barbossa. "Now figure it out."

I braced myself, waiting for him to cock the gun at another person, and indeed, the gun moved to Jack. I swallowed. "Let me guess. Five?"

Belmont nodded.

Jack raised his head slightly to look at me. Angry. Still.

My face went white, but I fought to regain my rationality. A riddle. I could figure out a riddle. Somehow. I had promised Jack we were getting out of this alive, and even if he never talked…I forced the thought from my mind…I was going to keep my promise.

Shuffling over to the edge, I glanced down. Nothing. I looked at the ropes. Nothing. Nothing to even suggest any type of connection to the riddle. "The riddle is telling us which rope to choose. 'Kill is correct': that's one thing; and only that one thing lets us cross the way. So one rope is symbolizing Kill. But…" I shoved my hands into my hair, clenching and unclenching my fists. Rope…Kill. What connection was there? Nooses are made of rope…which kill…but there were four ropes…this wasn't connecting…_this wasn't connecting_…

"Winnie, what is that under your foot?"

I looked up at Richard, who was staring intently at my feet. Looking down, I saw a crudely carved shape, and after backing away, saw that it was an 'N.' It didn't look like it originally belonged there, as if, as an after thought, someone had quickly added it on.

N.

I looked down at the riddle again.

Thou Shall Not Kill.

Everything was capitalized.

This 'N' was a capital N.

I raised my head. There was a rope in front of me.

To the left of me, and in front of the next rope, was a 'S'.

And to the right, was a 'K'.

I gasped and moved next to Richard. "Look! Thou-Shall-Not-Kill!" I pointed to each letter in accordance with the word. Ella and Elizabeth moved their heads with my hand, realization dawning.

"And," I ran over to the far right rope, which had the 'K', "Kill is correct! This is the one! The Spanish must have added these on later, to figure out which rope was safe! Of course, the way they did it was absolutely irrational..." I took the rope in my hands and pulled, though I wasn't strong enough, and Barbossa (much to my chagrin) came to assist me. A large click was heard, and from below us, a platform was emerging across the chasm to the other side.

I looked back at Belmont, who had removed the gun, and then glanced hopefully at Jack. He seemed hardly fazed, considering he was being threatened with his life, though that happened quite often. But still angry. Always angry now.

My stomach churned. How could he be so…unforgiving? I was trying…I was trying so hard to make things right…

Ella took my arm and linked hers through. "Come on, Finn. Let's go." She glanced over at Jack, where my eyes still were, and set her mouth in a frustrated line. "We still have a long way to go. You can do this, and I know it."

"Actually," I answered, looking down at the map, "we only have one more…ah…trap to maneuver." I sighed miserably. "And it doesn't look fun."


	35. The Fountain

AN: Finally, I have written the chapter I was waiting the write during the entire story! Yes! This is my favorite chapter! However, only I know the reasons, for I am the only one who knows what's going on in all the characters' heads! Ha ha ha...

But don't fret, everything will be understood later. In the mean time, an interesting little side note: this was probably the most exhausting chapter to write. I never thought any writing could be emotionally exhausting (except for maybe writing timed essays in AP English), but this chapter _was_. Go figure.

Oh, and just as a friendly reminder...I love reviews! Thank you so much to the three that did review! But I'd love more! Not to be pushy or anything...;)

Anyway, enough of my rambling, which I am finding I am doing more frequently. I assume you will be wanting to read this amazing chapter.

Enjoy.

* * *

The map gaped up at me from my hands, as if to mock my situation as I trudged onwards. One more trap till the Fountain of Youth.

One trap lay between us and our death.

I clenched the map tighter and gritted my teeth, yet despite it, all of me was shaking slightly. One more trap. I had to make sense of the warning. And then I had to come up with a plan to make it out alive.

What if the Fountain did produce eternal life? Belmont was sure to be the first to drink. That left everyone else vulnerable and…dead. The soldiers had obeyed him thus far, and if he was immortal and much more dangerous, they were sure to obey. We were trapped. We were trapped…_we were trapped_…

I stopped myself from yelling out in frustration and despair, resulting in a strangled gasp that left my mouth instead. Ella, who was still beside me, squeezed my arm.

No. we couldn't be trapped. There had to be a way. _Some_ way…

My hands became sweaty with the thought that all could be lost, and my head started spinning. This wasn't were I had envisioned my end to be. I was going to grow old…die in my sleep…or something peaceful like that. Not here. Not murdered. And I would _never_ let my friends die on my account. I was going to find a way. Somehow.

It was a burden to put one foot in front of the other. I kept telling myself these things, but nothing was presenting itself. I couldn't think, hardly could breathe. I had always thought myself rational and practical. And I had been, had I not? Then why could I not think straight? Why could I not find a way out of _this_ trap, the one with no instructions or riddles? The one that presented no escape?

"Just focus on this," murmured Ella, pointing at the map. I wiped my eyes; I hadn't realized I was crying up until this point. Looking down, I read the instructions again. All it said was walk to The Door. The Door. What in the world was that suppose to mean?

I sighed and kept walking. Behind me trailed Ella and Richard, though Richard was guarded by two soldiers. Beyond them was Belmont with Jack, and as I glanced over my shoulder, I could still see the anger blazing stronger than ever. But mixed with that seemed to be…I couldn't pin down the emotion, but as we once again locked eyes, I had to look away. The fierceness was frightening, horrible, and wretched. If Ella hadn't given me another squeeze of assurance…

I let out a haggard breath. I had to find a way to live. I had to. I _had_ to…there wasn't even another option for me…but…

My head banged against something wooden, and I stumbled to the side.

It was a door.

I looked down at the map. The door looked like The Door in the sketch.

"And the riddle?" asked Belmont, shoving his way forward, pushing Jack out in front of him. Jack's toe tripped over a rock, and he fell forward by my feet; I tried to help him up, but Belmont grabbed the collar of my shirt and pinned me against The Door. "Don't waste time," he snarled. "Figure out the riddle."

"Put her down!" shrieked Ella, hurtling herself at the Commodore with fury. He raised his hand and as she charged, backhanded her, sending her staggering backwards into Elizabeth's arms.

"Don't hurt her!" I screamed, throwing my own fist at him. I hit him squarely on the nose, heard a crack, and grimmaced as blood began to gush from his nose.

Belmont grabbed my throat and lifted me up until I was well above his head, and as he choked me, he pushed me harder and harder into the door until it felt like my body was going to snap in two. "_THE RIDDLE_!" he roared.

His hand was removed and I collapsed to the ground, the air thick with shocked silence. Everyone was still, like a statue, except for the eyes, that darted amongst themselves in a frenzied motion. Even the soldiers looked frightened, and many gripped their guns tighter.

"All it says is walk to the door," I groaned. "There isn't a riddle."

"Then it's the Fountain!" he said gleefully, grabbing my arm and hoisting me up. "Finally, after all these years--"

"Wait," interrupted Barbossa. "What is that on the door?"

I turned and saw a small plaque with words on it.

"Permissum qui intrunt non exsisto tempero per Diabolus. Servo tantum vestri auri , pro per oculi quod per os mos vos intereo," I read out loud. "Um…roughly speaking…I'd say it said: Let those who enter not be tempted by Satan. Keep only your ears, for by eyes and by mouth will you die. It doesn't sound too much like a riddle. More like a…warning."

"And what is it warning against?" growled Belmont, who once again had Jack under his pistol.

I swallowed and worded my answer carefully. "I don't know. But if we walk through the door, maybe we'll have a better idea."

Belmont's eyes glowered, but with a snort, he pushed Jack forward. "Jack goes in first. If something happens to him--"

"I'm going with him," I said.

Belmont tried to grab my arm, but I maneuvered away. "I'm going with him."

"Give me the map."

I handed the item over and stepped away; turning to the door, I rattled the handle, and it opened easily. Taking a deep breath, I looked up at Jack, but he hardly acknowledged my existence. Just staring blankly at The Door.

I wanted to scream at him, pound his chest, punch him in the face. _Anything_ to make him look at me! Anything to make him at least talk! At least explain why he was ignoring me, why he couldn't forgive me, why he couldn't trust me, why he couldn't at least _understand_ what I was going through…

But all I did was open The Door slowly, letting dank air wash over me, clearing my head from my internal strife of a relationship failed.

The room was dark, and I held my torch in front of me. There was nothing spectacular to see; just a lot of space. A _lot_ of space. It must have been the size of a music hall. And it was empty. Empty space. Nothing adorned the walls or floor, and at the other side was a large plain door, much like the one we were coming through.

Yet…

Something wasn't right. I could feel it. My gut was saying things weren't what they seemed, and as I walked farther in, fighting the urge to grab Jack's arm and curl up in it, I became more worried. The feeling was familiar…and closing my eyes, I realized with a shock that it was the same feeling I had felt before coming to the England and the Caribbean. Right before the men as came and attacked Ella and I, there had been a strange feeling, that something bad was going to happen. Right before I had been…I frowned as my memory flooded back. After that feeling…I had been…we had been…walking to a movie…and before that…there had been something about college. Something about wanting to go to England. College and England? Was that what we were talking about?

Something was _missing_…I _couldn't_ remember something…

The door banged shut, and looking behind me, I saw that those of us still left, probably around two seventy (and many of those were soldiers), were now in the room as well.

Suddenly, a horrible shrieking sound was heard, permeating the room, resonating off of every wall. Looking up, I saw a large gaping hole carved out of the ceiling, one I hadn't bothered to notice before.

_Let those who enter not be tempted by Satan. Keep only your ears, for by eyes and by mouth will you die…_keep only your ears_…_you can't control what ears might hear, but as for the eyes and mouth_…_

"Everybody, close your eyes and don't speak, no matter what you hear!" I yelled above the unearthly and hellish shrieking from above. "_Close your eyes and mouth_!"

Jack looked down at me, aghast, but all I did was bury my face into my hands and curl up on the ground. Behind me, Ella sat down, and I prayed, oh I prayed so hard, that everybody I cared for was doing what I was doing.

The shrieking came closer, and I cried; cried harder than I had in years. It was ghastly and terrifying, causing all of my soul to cry out in pain and desolation. Never had such a sound pierced my consciousness so severely, making my very body rise up in agony, clawing at my mind and memory.

Then came voices, mixed with the shrieking, desperate voices, frightened voices, malicious voices. Voices I recognized.

I could hear my mother calling out for me; my father scolding me; grandma lamenting on her death bed; and my little sister, yelling and crying out for help, anyone to help. There was Elizabeth screaming for Will as he lay dying, screaming out her heart as his lay still and lifeless next to her. There was Isabella and Arielle, sobbing helplessly as the pirates attacked Port Royal, begging me to come back somehow. There was Richard, lonely, collapsed, incoherently muttering in grief, horrified that Ella had disappeared, that she had been kidnapped. There was Jack, wretched and alone, clawing at the ground as he cried, trapped on an island by his own crew; and then there was him shouting at me, asking how I could be so heartless and selfish as to ruined the plan, _his_ plan, that would make everything right again. He shouted that he hated me, that he loathed me, that if I were to die, right now, he would be happier than he had been in years. Then there was Ella crying out for me, begging me to come back to her, begging for me to not be dead, to not be lost in the storm; and then her shrieks of agony as she realized that I must be dead, I must be gone forever.

I wanted to scream, wanted to join in the chorus of shrieking that sounded around my body. I wanted so badly to find my parents, save my sister, protect Isabella and Arielle, find Jack and beg for forgiveness, to hold Ella, tell her I was still alive, that I was right here beside her. I would do anything to fix the mistakes I had made, anything to bring my family and friends back, anything to have Jack forgive me…

I almost did. I almost cried out, insisting that everything had been a mistake, that I was sorry for abandoning everybody, that I was so sorry…

The voices swam around me, penetrating every part of my mind, body, and soul, but I did not speak. I did not open my eyes. These things that were hurting me, that were torturing me, were fake. They were not there with me. I knew. Ella was not screaming for help; she was right next to me, holding my hand. I could feel her back pressed up against mine, and I could feel that she was saying nothing. Her body was motionless except for the occasional twitch of fright that afflicted me as well.

I breathed and held Ella's hand tighter than before, straining my ears for true sounds, true voices, attempting to hold onto reality as my sanity floated around my head with the shrieking voices. I could here shrieks, men begging to be understood, then followed by screams of horror and the strangled yelps of someone dying.

I bit my lip so hard I could taste blood, that warm metallic taste that revolted me so. I shook, and Ella shook, and we sat there, me hoping beyond hope that we would make it out alive. That Elizabeth and Richard and Gibbs and Cotton and Jack and Ella would be alive. That somehow…somehow…just somehow…

I chanted to myself, in my head, chanted wishes, chanted ifs and maybes and hopefullys. I chanted forever, it seemed, chanted to keep the voices from hurting me, from weakening my dreams…

And then…

It was quiet. It wasn't a sudden quiet, though it seemed everything had disappeared at once. Shrieks persisted until the last desperate gasp for breath was heard and all that remained was the quiet, uneven breathing of those still living.

We sat there, no one making even the slightest movement for what seemed like ages.

"It's okay," someone gasped. It was Elizabeth, far away it sounded like, yet a hand removed my own hands from my face, and I saw her, staring down at me with a face of an angel.

I swallowed and licked my lips, that were chapped and still bleeding. Both my bruises were swollen and hurting terribly, like a hot iron was being pressed to them. Behind me Ella stirred, and her face came into view as well, drawn out like that of an old, tired personage. People were standing up, shakily if not uneasily; ones I recognized stood up, and after each familiar face, I let out a sob of relief; Richard, Gibbs, Jack…

I looked at Ella. She had been crying to, the stains of the tears streaked across her cheeks. "You were screaming at me," she said in a hoarse whisper. "You were screaming at me to not float away. And then you were crying, because you thought I was gone."

I opened my mouth to say what I had heard, but my mouth froze, and all I could do was hunch over and weep, letting the tears fall to the ground shamelessly. She held me tightly, kept me safe from the eyes of others, from their thoughts and condemnations.

After a time, we both stood up, and I let my eyes wander in shock. Bodies lay everywhere, strewn across the ground like a Persian rug of red and brown and grey. Lifeless eyes shone up, and mouths remained open like a cavernous hole, stretched in a continuous shriek, and faces forever etched with a look of panic and dread. Next to them sat those of the living, their faces contorted into desolation and hopelessness. There were many more dead than living.

"It seems only a select few remain alive," determined Belmont callously. "My men remain…considerably in tact. However, Barbossa, Sparrow, it seems _your_ men are…significantly reduced."

I whipped around to face Belmont, who was standing only a few feet away, already pointing his pistol at a distressed and mutinous Jack. "You heartless monster," I seethed, and I ran up, intent on punching him again, but he grabbed my arm and shoved me forward.

"The Fountain is right through that door, according to the map. But so far our luck as been less than satisfactory, and I wouldn't be surprised if there was another trap connected with the Fountain. _You_ will be the one to take the first sip, just to make sure it's not some type of poison."

Ella screamed out in retort, but I was first to speak. "What good would I drinking it do? I'm already young! Besides," I added, more as an afterthought than anything else, "I wouldn't take a drink to begin with. I don't want to be forever young."

Belmont opened his mouth, but thought better of whatever he was planning to say, and scanned the room, scrutinizing each person within his eyesight. "Fine. You," he pointed to a nearby soldier, a large, white headed man. "You are going to take the first sip. Understood?"

The man nodded helplessly and saluted.

"Very well. Sparrow, it is my guess that you have the key we need to get through that door?" Jack hardly nodded, his glare becoming stronger with every word that came from Belmont's mouth. "Give it to me."

Jack hesitated, but did pull the key from his pocket and hand it to Belmont. Greedily, the Commodore ran to the door and shoved the key into the keyhole. The door was opened, and a blast of fresh air filled the room, followed by a blast of sunlight.

Sunlight.

I gasped and ran toward the opening and looked out to see a most amazing sight.

Straight ahead of me was a large, beautiful waterfall that cascaded down into a small pool. Either side of this fall was a carpet of bushes and flowers, and at the top, a small hole where the blue sky could be seen. _Blue sky_. There was a way out.

Surrounding us was the cave, and the shape reminded me of an eight ball; round and smooth on the sides with a small opening near the top. Covering the floor was not only grass and shrubs, but treasure; chests of gold, diamonds, rubies, emeralds, crowns, figurines, necklaces, rings, paintings, mirrors, and luxurious cloth. Everything sparkled and shined as a soft breeze swept through the space.

Belmont and Jack, who had come up behind me, both stood there stunned, and beyond them were Barbossa and Gibbs, graced with the same expression on their faces. Well, I wasn't about to stand here and gape any longer; I was going to figure out how to get out of here, get toward that sunlight, starting with how to get to that opening on top. The opening where I could see freedom and relief peeking through.

Stepping forward, I intended to strut down the slope that was in front of us, but my foot caught on a string, and I tumbled down, landing on a bush of birds of paradise.

"Ouch," I moaned, grabbed the side with the bruise. Then I realized _what_ I had tripped on, and sat up hurriedly, watching for something to happen, like the opening to close, or an arrow to dart out.

Nothing happened.

No one else seemed to notice my misfortune, other than to assume it was my clumsiness, and I noticed that the string had snapped and now lay harmlessly on the floor. Everyone just started walking through, gaping up like a bunch of turkeys.

I blinked and frowned. Maybe that wasn't a trap. Maybe it was just…left there. By mistake.

_Right_.

Nothing here happened by mistake.

I watched the area suspiciously, ready to call out should something strange happen.

Nothing was happening, other than the remaining men were walking through the door like zombies, too dumbfounded to realize what they were looking at. They all congregated in a group located at the bottom of the pool, crowding around as the first man prepared to take a drink.

I stood up finally and bit my lip, which was still bleeding. Okay, so something bad wasn't happening. At least not right now. If only I knew _what _was going to happen (for I had no doubt something would), I could organize it so that, somehow, Belmont was trapped here while the rest of us were escaping through the hole. Somehow. I just needed to know what would happen.

"Miss Delaney! Get down here _now_," ordered Belmont, but his usual snarl did not seem to have the same ring to it, instead coated with excitement.

I closed the twenty or so feet that separated the entrance from the pool and came to stand next to Belmont. The old soldier had not taken a drink yet, but was bending precariously down with his head tilted toward me, as if waiting my own order.

"What is it?" I wiped away the blood from my lip and brought some loose hair away from my face.

"Read that." Belmont pointed toward a large wooden post with a plaque.

I came up and studied it carefully. It was in Latin still.

_Aqua Vitae_

_Bibe et eris totus_

_Rete tui teus , vel cupidits er te rnam_

I frowned. The first two lines were easy. Water of Life. Drink, and you will be whole. Easy. Unfortunately, the last line was considerably worn away and nearly impossible to make out in certain places.

I repeated what I could read to the group, not ready to reveal the rest to Belmont, who wasn't really paying much attention to the plaque itself. For all I knew, it might be something I could use to my advantage.

"Drink and be whole. That's clear enough of a message, man. Now drink!" commanded the Commodore, and he shoved the old soldier forward.

The man wasn't so easily soothed. "Is that some type of riddle? Is it hinting at something?" His face was contorted with fear, and I couldn't blame him. After what we had just been through, deadly paths, a pond of acid, the threat of falling into a bottomless pit, I would be rather reluctant to take the words for the plain truth.

All I could do was shrug. "Not that I can see. It's in the same type of style as the last directions were: walk to the door. And that's all we had to do, walk to the door."

He closed his eyes and tried to bend over and take a sip, but before he got close enough, he pulled away, shame and defiance in his eyes. "Commodore, I can't drink this. And I must agree with Miss Delaney here; I don't want to be young forever either. What would my wife say? I am nearly sixty five myself, and she is not far behind."

I held my breath and prayed that Belmont would not shoot him for his impertinence, but the prayer turned out to be unnecessary for the Commodore just rolled his eyes and dragged Jack out from behind him. "Fine. If you won't, Sparrow will test it. After all, he wanted it as much as myself."

Jack, who had been more or less hunched for most of the journey, shook himself and straightened his posture; but he looked confused. He had been heaved along and threatened to be killed countless times, and now the Commodore was offering him the chance to drink from the Fountain. It didn't add up.

Well, for me, it did add up. Belmont was preposterously mad; simple as that. He had been crazy enough to chase us across the ocean, threaten us with our lives, and now he was still fanatical enough to do anything necessary to make sure the Fountain was safe to drink. Rational thinking was no longer in function, and whatever Belmont did from now on was for the benefit of getting what he desired, no matter how absurd and dangerous it might be.

For the first time in a long time (and yes, a whole day is a very long time), Jack looked directly at me. He was still irate, that I could see. But he seemed wary, almost hesitant. Hesitant of what? I had already confirmed it was safe to drink; I was pretty much sure of it. And wary. Wary and hesitant. These were not qualities that commonly described Jack Sparrow.

He looked down at the pool with a definite amount of trepidation, then back at me with the same look as before. I nodded him forward. It was okay; it wasn't poisonous.

He kneeled down, cupped the water in his hands and brought it within three inches of his mouth before stopping and holding completely still. His eyes were pointed at the water in his grasp, but it wasn't that they were focused on. Jack was thinking, _thinking_, about drinking this.

My breath hitched in my chest; partly from surprise, but also from annoyance. This man had dragged me across the Caribbean, using me time and again, inflicting more misery and hardship than I had ever experienced before, to find this small pool of everlasting youth. And now, as he had it so near, he was _thinking_.

I wanted to run up and shove the water into his mouth. This was what he wanted, what he risk life (and others) for; he had better drink it.

But he sat there staring at the water. Everyone, including Belmont, was utterly silent as they watched with excitement and perplexity, and my eyes wandered to the plaque again. _Rete tui teus , vel cupidits er te rnam. Tui _and_ te_ were 'your.' _Cupiditas_ was probably the actual word, and that was 'desire.' _Vel_ was 'or.' Something about your something, or your desire would…something. It was a warning. It had to be. I swallowed and looked back at Jack.

He hadn't moved, but when I focused back on him, he looked up at me a final time; his anger, turmoil, and frustration all shining through his gaze. Without looking down at his hands, he opened them, and the water trickled back into the pool.

Belmont didn't even wait for a reason. Pushing Jack aside like one would shove a dog, the Commodore fell to his belly and began to drink the water from the pool, not even bothering to lift his head for a breath. It seemed like he lay there forever, just drinking. But, though everyone's immediate attention was avidly following Belmont, I was standing in a cloud of shock, and one look at Ella confirmed that I wasn't the only one.

Why hadn't Jack taken the water? Eternal youth? He had been dreaming of this moment! _Why hadn't he taken it?_

I blinked, but that was it; I was too stunned about…well, everything to really do much more other than blink.

Escape. I needed to focus on escape. We had to get out. No time for puzzling reactions of Jack, or anyone, for that matter.

_Rete tui teus , vel cupidits er te rnam._ I looked closer at the plaque. I could see a faint trace of a 'i' in the first word. Retie. Probably _retine_, or _retineo_. To contain. But it was an order. Contain. Contain what? I looked at the third word. Both letters were incomprehensible.

"Have I changed yet?" asked Belmont, leaping to his feet and extending his arms out.

I looked at him.

Nothing was different.

Absolutely nothing.

I blinked hard. Maybe I just wasn't looking carefully enough.

Nothing.

Still the same grayish hair, same lines of age, same age spots. He didn't look even a minute younger. But wait, as he opened his mouth…I peered in. his teeth, while decent for the time, had had cavities on the lower row that were pretty noticeable. But they were gone…

And hadn't I broken his nose only a few minutes ago? The dried blood was still there, but his nose was oddly straight. And I could have sworn it was a mite crooked a moment before…

No one seemed willing to say the obvious; Belmont was no younger than before. So the cave remained silent as a grave until one of the pirate muttered, "Well, you do look a mite healthier."

Belmont's eyes turned red and his mouth shut into a gruesome frown. "I am suppose to be _young_. Forever." He whipped around to the pool and bent closer, looking as his reflection before crying out in a feral growl. "_Why have I not changed_?"

There was a moment of hush before the talk of frightened wonder radiated from the small group. The soldiers were bewildered, though I did detect a sense of relief; the pirates were beyond stunned, blinking and frowning as they shook their heads in disbelief; Barbossa's face was nothing but a stone mask, though I was sure he was beyond livid; and Jack was…frowning. Just frowning. And disappointed. Very disappointed.

He looked at me again, and is grimace deepened before he turned away a final time to sit on a nearby rock.

I ignored the gesture, and the look; most of my emotions had become numb by this time, especially after the beating I had incurred in the other room from the shrieking voices. Instead, I stared at the pool.

Aqua Vitae. Water of Life.

Nothing in the name hinted at youth. Just life.

Drink and be whole.

Not, drink and be young. Just whole. Whole. As in complete. As in well. As in healthy.

Belmont's nose was no longer broken. It was better again. And so were his teeth.

If…if it was what I thought it was…

I bent down to the water and took some in my hand, focusing on the pain I now felt, especially in my bruises. Voices were calling out to me, distantly, but I paid them no heed.

I drank the water, and it was the sweetest water I had ever tasted. It felt like a blend of roses and mint and all the fresh flavors I loved were streaming down my throat, healing and uplifting my spirits. I sighed in contentment and took another sip, understanding now why Belmont had not been in any hurry to stop. It was exotic. It was beyond words. It was…painless. I felt like a cloud, floating carelessly through the sky.

I touched my cheek carefully. No pain. My skin was flawless and smooth, as if Richard had never touched me. I brought up my shirt to look at Jack's bruise. Nothing. Not even the smallest mark. I ran my tongue along my lips. They weren't even chapped.

"Oh my…my…_Finn_!" gasped Ella, who had evidently been watching me with the utmost worry. "You're…you…you're…well, I…"

"I'm whole," I said. "I'm not sick, hurt, or deformed in any way." I stared down at my hands. My left pinkie had been broken once, playing basketball, and had healed just in a slightly crooked position. It was perfectly straight, as it had always been. Maybe…

"Look at my ears," I commanded Ella. "Are they perfectly straight?"

She frowned. My ears, though not noticeable, were just a tad off center from one another. Hardly noticeable except to me. I mean…it wasn't like it had ever truly annoyed me. But it would be nice to actually have straight ears.

Ella did as bided, though still frowning. "I…they look the same, Finn. I mean, they weren't really that crooked before, hardly at all, but…no, they look the same. All the same."

I blinked. Okay. So I was the same as before. I was whole, as I had been designed to be whole. If I had been born with a real deformity, then that wouldn't be healed. Whole only meant whole as when a person was born.

Belmont had watched my experiment with careful scrutiny, a gaze I had purposefully ignored, and now came up to study my face, forcing my chin up. "So, your wounds are healed. And my nose is healed. This means only one thing."

I looked over at Ella who looked at Richard who looked at Elizabeth, who looked back at me. What did it mean? That we were dead now?

"It means…this is the key to living forever. Water of life, you say? Life. It should be able to bring back anything that is dead then, right? It makes it whole again. Perfect health for the rest of my days. Only a sip." He smile had become maniacal, his voice rising higher and higher with glee at the prospect of what he had obtained. "Eternal Youth would be nice, but what good would it do if I could be killed? This way, I can't be. I'm invincible. If ever I get shot or stabbed, all I have to do is take a tiny sip, and I'm whole. I'm alive. Belmont the Indestructible. Glorious."

He dropped my face and walked away about ten paces before falling to his knees. Raising his head, he laughed; harder and harder until the sound filled the cave with a nasty echo that penetrated every body standing there with a chilling feeling that crawled over the skin in the most horrible fashion.

He continued to laugh and laugh and laugh. Elizabeth moved toward the pool and kneeled down, as did many people, to drink from it. Belmont was completely cut off from reality, just kneeling there, wrapped up in his own mind, not bothering to watch any others. I watched as man after man knelt down and took a sip, sometimes small, sometimes a long draught. Elizabeth had found a vial, a large one at that, and was filling. _Will_, I thought, _she's getting it for Will._

I smiled at the thought of their happy reunion, and she stood up, radiant, almost shaking in delight and excitement. She could have her husband back. They could be together again. Maybe it was glorious.

Cotton, the man with no tongue, bent down to take his own sip, and open rising, opened his mouth gallantly and sang a low bass note, grinning as it rang true and deep. Gibbs, who stood next to him, patted him on the back, smiling himself. "Good man, Cotton. It will be nice to hear you sing again."

Cotton snorted. "I'll have you know this blasted parrot never said what I was really thinking. It's a bloody nuisance, that's what. Shoo, now." He attempted to push the poor thing off his shoulder, but the parrot wouldn't budge, and after three unsuccessful tries, Cotton sighed and patted it gently. "Well, you have been a good friend. I'll give you that."

Jack was bending over the pool as well, a large rum bottle in hand. I caught myself wondering where he had procured such an item, but didn't bother finishing the thought. He rinsed it out, then dipped it into the pool before corking it and holding like a prize, cradled against his chest.

I hoped, for the briefest, dimmest second, that now Jack had what he wanted, he wouldn't be angry with me.

It was, once again, no good. His eyes were subdued, but the resentment was strong, and from them, I could see what he was resenting. I still had yet to find an escape for us; and I had been the one to get us into this mess. Of course he was still angry.

Escape. I needed an escape.

Glancing over at Belmont, I saw that he was still kneeling, but was now looking at the vast treasure, as was most of the company now.

I bent down at the plaque and gritted my teeth. Ella came down next to me. "Is there more?"

She obviously hadn't been fooled at my previous translation.

"Yeah, there's more. But it's smudged, see? I have part of it. We need to contain something and…oh, if only I could understand there rest! You see, remember when I tripped?"

She gave one nod.

"I tripped over a string. It set something off, like with the stone earlier. I'm positive. But…nothing happened right away. I think this tells us about it, but I don't know what it says." I clenched my fists in frustration. "Tell everyone we care about, Richard, Elizabeth, Jack's crew, Jack, that we need to be ready to make a dash for it. But don't move yet, not until I know what the danger is. Don't let Belmont get suspicious. Just let them know something is going to happen. Just in case something _does_ happen before I figure it out. Then we all make a dash for the opening. Try and find a way out, like stairs or a ramp. We need to get out."

Ella nodded and stepped away, leaving me with the exhausting task of interpreting smudges.

_Retine tui teus , vel cupiditas er te rnam._

Okay, so the first part of the warning already had a verb, but the second part didn't, and the 'or' indicated that a new one was need. _Ero_ would fit well. Will be. That was a good verb for a warning.

_Retine tui teus , vel cupiditas ero te rnam._

The 'r' had a faint 'u' next to it. _Runam_…_ruinam_? That meant ruin, or down fall.

_Retine tui teus , vel cupiditas ero te ruinam._

I almost had it! The answer was there, staring at me! _Contain your…blank, or desire (greed), will be your downfall_.

Contain…what? The gold? No, that was silly, it was already here. Contain…how much gold you take. Or how much water. That would make sense…except neither of those words were remotely hinted at on the plaque. One word. That was all. We needed to contain one thing.

Contain…there could be many meanings for contain. To keep confined, to…keep small? No…no…well…I frowned. Keep small. Keep something short. What could we keep short?

_Teus_.

'T' words in latin: temple, skin, cloth, correct, clean, time…

I gasped.

Time.

Contain your time, or greed will be your downfall.

The string…it had set off a timed trap. The longer we stayed here, the sooner we came to being…destroyed.

I sprang up and frantically searched the cave for Ella. Upon seeing her, I began darting in that direction, but then something cracked.

It was not a small crack. It was a big one. And it was coming from the ceiling.

I looked up, as did everyone else, with fear and panic in the air. All along the top were little cracks; uniformed cracks too, like a large chessboard, or a grid.

"Time!" I shouted, still running toward Ella. "We've spent too much time! That's what the warning was!"

A large chunk of the ceiling fell ten feet away from me, as at the instant the rock hit the floor, the entire cave became something similar to a swarming ant hill. No one had any particular direction; they only wanted to avoid the possibility of death.

"To the opening, above the waterfall!"

I was not the only one shouting this out, and the men began a frantic scramble to safety. But it was horrible to watch, for many had wandered into the deep recesses of the cave, and the falling rocks had become more frequent, smashing some as they blitzed toward the blue sky and protection.

My initial path toward Ella was cut short as a large boulder slammed into the ground in front of me. "Run!" I shouted at her over the boulder and the crashing sounds around us. "Go to the opening!"

Relief came as I saw that Elizabeth had made it to the base of the waterfall and was steadily climbing upwards; she had found a path. Behind her followed soldiers and pirates alike.

More boulders fell, the cave trembling violently and making it hard to move properly. My ears felt like they would burst each time another rock fell.

I began to walk toward the opening. People I cared about were all in front of me, rushing to the light. Good. Everyone was safe, and--

THUD!

Landing flat on my face, I rolled unevenly down the hill, stopping near the pool. I had tripped in a pile of fancy clothes, and now was sufficiently tangled in a long cape and numerous jackets.

CRASH!

The ground reverberated as a large boulder fell within three inches of my legs.

I tried to stand up, but couldn't even budge.

With horror, I realized that he cape that enveloped me was also trapped under the boulder. Jackets wrapped around my arms, forbidding me the option of getting loose.

I was trapped. And almost everyone still living was at the waterfall.

Just then Jack ran forward, completely unaware of me, and as I opened my mouth to beg for help, he tripped as well, and his rum bottle went flying into the air only to land in the middle of the pool, a good twenty feet away.

He swore loudly and readied himself to dive into the pool.

"_JACK_!"

He whipped around at the sound of my cracking voice to see my struggling body laying there helplessly.

"Jack, _help me_! I can't get out!"

My head was spinning in fright, my vision changing between blurry and crystal clear clarity. I couldn't die here…not here…surely Jack would come and save me…

But he stood there, his anger still prevalent in his eyes.

He looked at the bottle.

Then he looked at me.

Then he looked at the bottle, and took a small step forward.

The ceiling above me cracked a little, but nothing fell.

"JACK!" I screeched using a voice that sounding nothing like my own. "_JACK_! _Help me! Please_!"

He turned back, his face contorted with rage and fear.

The bottle held everything he had worked for. And I was the bothersome girl who had foiled the plan…_his _plan…

His voice, his shrieking voice, came back to me with disturbing precision. He hated me, he would be happier with out me…

Jack needed to make a choice; eternal life or me. The agony at such a decision was plain, perverting his face into horrible expressions. But he was angry, always angry.

The ceiling cracked again. And Jack didn't budge.

Angry. He was still angry with me. Angry enough to leave me here to die.

I knew, I knew it at the last moment of looking at him, before going unconscious by a stray rock hitting me on the head, that he wasn't going to save me.

He wasn't going to save me.

_"As for myself; I know what it is I want, and I don't intend to lose either of them."_

_"What if there was a choice? What if you couldn't have them both?"_

_"I won't have to make that choice. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow"_

Jack couldn't have both. He had to make a choice. He _had_ made a choice.

And it had been the choice I knew he would make all along.

Not me.


	36. All For You

AN: And here's the chapter everyone was waiting for! Well...kind of...I suppose...

Anyway...I don't have much to say...other than if Jack seems slightly out of character, let it be known that I am taking creative liberties with how his character would act in this type of situation, seeing as I've never seen him in this situation before. If that made any sense.

Well, only one more chapter to go after this!

So, without further ado, I give you the second to last chapter.

Enjoy.

* * *

There is a quote in _Peter Pan_ about 'death being an awfully great adventure.'

Well, if death included skull-splitting pain on, conveniently, my head, then I really, _really _wanted to be alive again.

For I did, in fact, automatically assume I was dead upon coming back into consciousness. And it wasn't until opening my eyes and staring intently at the wooden ceiling above me, waiting for a tunnel of light appear with angels flanking either side with glorious halleluiahs and hymnals and loud trumpet bursts, that I decided that maybe I wasn't dead after all.

My second option was limbo, but then came the problem with being a ghost and having pain…

And then I jumped to the idea of Purgatory (never mind the fact I'm not actually Catholic); people are in pain there, right? After all, that's what Dante said in the _Inferno_…

But then there was the issue that Dante wasn't any type of priest and technically should have no idea what Purgatory was like unless he was dead and there, nor did this particular state seem anything like his Purgatory, and _The Divine Comedy_ was just a book anyway…

Which had me thinking about my AP Lit. class, where we had read _The Divine Comedy_, and I started to cringe, remembering the long hours I had spent trying to decipher any meaning from the stanzas…or whatever their called…

And it was at that point that I decided I must be alive, no matter how unlikely I deemed it. If I were dead, I wouldn't be thinking about deciphering Dante. And I certainly wouldn't feel like an anvil was beating repeatedly against my head. And I was pretty sure that if I were dead, and in some sort of waiting room for Judgment, or whatever was suppose to happen to me, then that the waiting room wouldn't have wooden ceilings.

I frowned. Waiting room. Where had that idea come from?

I backtracked to the wooden ceiling part. Where had the wood come from? Wasn't I in a cave (assuming I truly wasn't dead)? Speaking of which…how had I survived that? Surely the entire ceiling was suppose to collapsed.

Maybe I had gotten lucky and the boulder that was suppose to fall on me hadn't.

Right. Not likely.

Which brought me back to the problem of wood. How had wood ended up in the cave in the first place? And why could I see the ceiling if a rock was on top of me?

And then there was the issue of, if I was in the cave, why couldn't I hear the waterfall?

Maybe I was dead after all. And deaf. Dead, deaf, and stuck in limbo. It had to be limbo.

Now I had to think of what would _cause _me to be in limbo…

And the problem of why my head hurt beyond _anything _imaginable…

A clanging sound, much like metal, happened somewhere near my feet, and a dark face loomed in front of me.

Like any respectable women would, I screamed my lungs out. Except it turned out my lungs weren't cooperating the way I had intended them to, and all that came out was a rankling sound, something familiar to that of gravel being scraped against a sidewalk.

A light appeared by my head, and the face was illuminated. It was a nice face, I suppose; light skinned with mousy hair and brown eyes that looked at my face with true concern. Completely unrecognizable.

I wanted to ask, "Who are you?", but the previous scream seemed to have drained all energy from my mouth. Instead I whimpered slightly.

"Here now, Miss Delaney, I got this for you. Just take a drop, that's all you'll need."

Something cold was against my lips and the faintest drop of liquid dropped into my mouth; the most amazing, exotic liquid I had ever tasted. Instantly, my head was cleared of any injury, and the rest of me felt elated. I sighed, murmuring a thank you.

However, with this release from my injury came something much more painful; a flood of memories.

The Fountain.

Jack.

What had happened to me?

Where was Ella?

"How did I get here?" I stammered, sitting up hurriedly, nearly smashing my face into the man's chest. After giving him a once over, I quickly saw that he was a soldier, and had been in charge of constraining Barbossa along with another man. "Where is here?" was my added after thought.

The soldier stood up and looked to his left, my right, with worry crossing his face. "You're on the _Hildegard_, Belmont's ship. And you were…carried on, I suppose. I didn't see you come on personally."

I swallowed. Belmont's ship. That meant…what did that mean? I wasn't dead…somehow, which was still a great mystery to me. But if Belmont had me, that meant that he probably had everyone else; and that meant we were all still alive. Why?

I wanted to ask more questions, but the man seemed to sense this and started to walk out of what appeared to be a cell. I was in the brig, apparently.

"Wait, who are you? And where did you get the water?"

The man halted briefly. "My name is Private Sorenson. Thomas, if you prefer. And I took a vial, like many others did, of the water."

I nodded, understanding the explanation. "Okay. Why am--?"

A whistle was heard from above deck, and Thomas winced. "I need to go now, Miss Delaney. If you want further explanation, I think asking Mr. Sparrow would suffice. I'll come down later, if I can, with food. I don't know if Belmont is planning on feeding either of you regularly."

With that simple response, he trotted away, leaving me with a nauseated stomach and a spinning head, neither of which had resulted from any injury, except maybe emotional.

Jack was in the next cell, a brief flick of the eyes showed me this, and I wanted to scream.

But I didn't.

Instead, I breathed very deeply and considered what was running through my head at the moment.

First of all, I wanted to strangle him, for more than obvious reasons. But then I didn't, for equally obvious reasons.

Yes. Despite what had happened, despite the horrors I had endured, I still was in love with him. No matter how foolish the truth was. Curling up into a ball, I laid back down on the dingy straw that coated the floor. The rank smell was everywhere, and no matter which way I positioned myself, it wouldn't disappear. I groaned, partly from annoyance, and partly to break the silence.

"You're awake, I see."

The sound of Jack's voice stopped me, and I bit my lip, debating whether to respond, and I did, in a soft voice. "Talking to me again?"

The mood tensed automatically, and I quickly regretted making the comment, but didn't think that a simple sorry would suffice. Neither said anything until I finally discovered the courage to squeak out, "Why are we here? And alive?"

Jack didn't respond right away, and I had a distinct feeling he was trying to rely the information as factually as possible without losing his temper. I waited patiently, not bothering to move and look at him.

"After the cave collapsed, Belmont took charge of the situation. Both pirate crews were mostly gone; the soldiers were the ones with enough discipline to stay relatively close to the Commodore and the exit. I suppose Belmont meant to kill everyone at the island, but the soldiers threatened not to sail back with him if they did that. However, Belmont said he'd say they all deserted when back at Port Royal, meaning the law would be after them as well; and seeing as we would all be stuck on the island, we certainly wouldn't be going anywhere. Then the soldiers thought of killing him, without giving him any water, but Belmont reasoned that they had been seen attacking Port Royal. If they came back without the Commodore to straighten things out, the whole crew might be charged with piracy and be hung. They finally made the agreement to transport us as criminals to Port Royal to be judged." He was silent.

I let the quiet hang in the air for a time before asking, "Do you think we might be fairly judged?"

"No. Belmont is capable of threatening the families of the judge and jury. And if there is any fair judgment, I certainly won't be coming away with my life." The last remark was dripping with scathing bitterness, and I cringed.

I was silent for a minute more, and then asked, "Where is Ella? And Richard? And Elizabeth? And… the rest of your crew?"

"Belmont made it very clear that if any of us try to escape, he will kill the others. We are here, and I am almost positive that Ella is in Belmont's cabin, tied up or something of that fashion. As for the rest…well, my crew is in the brig of the _Pearl_, along with the remainder of Barbossa's, and what is left of Dawson's crew." He paused. "Will is alive again. I think he's with Elizabeth, and I think they are on the _Flying Fortune_."

"Richard is probably on the _Pearl_ then," I mumbled, still facing away from Jack. "So we're all trapped."

"Yes." The word stung, the way Jack spoke it, as if blaming it all on me.

I clenched my teeth, determined not to cry. No crying. Not here. Certainly not in front of Jack. Just no.

We sat there. Neither moved. The silence changed from awkward to frustrating to miserable, until I finally said, "You're feeling okay, Jack? I mean, other than being stuck in the brig…"

"No; I feel terrible. Belmont made a point of shoving all of us who were remaining conscious in a rather rough matter."

"Who else fainted?"

"Ella, when she saw what had happened to you."

I sat up to look at him. Ella? When she saw what happened to me? That meant…

After fully realizing I was alive, I had automatically assumed that the reason for my being alive was due to the fact that Ella had run down and saved me somehow. I certainly would do that for her; and Ella was absolutely feisty enough to make everything work out in her terms. But if she was unconscious, then obviously she couldn't have done that.

Jack met my gaze, his eyes flickering strongly with annoyance and loathing…and…something else? I blinked once, and his gaze was gone.

Richard. Or Gibbs. Neither of them were unconscious. Clearly they were the one's who saved me.

"Why don't you take a sip from your vial?"

A _long_ pause. "I don't have it."

I glanced over at Jack. He was facing the front of his cell, and I would have assumed he wanted nothing to do with my presence, except he was talking with me. "Don't have it? You…couldn't get it? Did it float farther into the pool?"

"It was…out of reach. I didn't have enough time," he spat, digging his fingers into the floor.

I winced at the scratching sound and looked away. "I'm…I'm sorry. That's…." I brought my knees under my chin. "I'm sorry, Jack. And I'm sorry for--"

"Don't bother," he growled. "It's nothing you could have controlled anyway."

I blinked, then narrowed my eyes. "Good grief, you haven't spoken to me at all since being captured, and I fully intend to say sorry! I didn't mean for Belmont to capture us; how in the world was I suppose to know that he could use me like that? I mean…okay, it was stupid of me to go out and fight, and you know what Jack? You were right, I should have stayed in the cabin. And I don't know what you mean by control, because I _could _have controlled that…but how could you honestly think I was going to sit there and _wait_? Everybody I cared for was depending on us winning; and everyone I cared for was out their fighting! _Everyone_! How could I face myself in years to come if any of you had died, and all I did was sit patiently and hope everything would turn out for the best? _I couldn't!_ I didn't mean for any of this to happen, and I didn't mean to ruin your plan…I swear, I didn't mean it! And I am so, _so _sorry, Jack! Please, just forgive me! I don't want more, just that. That's all. Just to know that…that this won't hang between us. You won't ever have to speak to me, or see me, again, I promise, just please forgive me for this!" I was crying now, despite my determination not to, with my fists clenched into my pants, knuckles white and hurting.

I didn't dare look at Jack. Not after that. I burrowed my head between my elbows and waited.

He said nothing for a long time. Certainly more than ten minutes, but it felt like eons, ages, centuries…

"How do you think you got out of the cave?"

The sudden, and strange, question did make me look at him peculiarly. "How I got out of the cave? Well, obviously I didn't do it my self…" I glanced down at my hands for no particular reason. "Why does it matter to you?"

Once again, Jack was silent, but now I felt him staring intently at me; curling up tighter, I watched my toes with more interest than they ever deserved. Now where had my shoes gone to?

"Let me rephrase the question. Who do you think saved you?"

The answer was off my tongue before I could ring it back in. "Not you."

I had never heard a louder hush.

"Very well," he continued, "then who?"

I faced him, a disgruntled snort coming from my mouth. "Why ask me? Surely you saw when you were floundering for your vial. Or maybe you didn't…I don't know! I was unconscious!"

"I noticed."

I huffed, my stomach twisting uncomfortably. I wanted out now. I wanted to be able to see the sun, have fresh air, clear my head from everything that had happened. It was a miracle I hadn't lost my mind already to the insanity and emotional strain I had been shoved into.

I wanted Ella. More than anything else at the moment, I wanted Ella. She could listen, and she could understand. At least someone to commiserate with. Someone to calm me. Someone to tell me everything was going to be okay. How many times in the last few months had I been able to speak with her, just me and her? Twice. Two wonderful, horribly timed moments where I could finally just talk and tell all, where I could pour out my doubts and fears and have her there to make everything better again, even with a simple hug. Twice.

I wanted her back.

We must have sat there for another fifteen minutes until I asked feebly, "How long was I unconscious?"

"This is the second day we've been sailing. We came out of the cave around dusk, though no one realized how late it was." He shifted before finishing, "You were probably sleeping the last day; most of us were."

"Oh."

"You never answered my question, Finn."

I gulped and looked at him, somewhat shocked he had used my name directly. "Yes I did; I don't _know _who."

"But not me."

The way Jack said the statement made me watch him closer, but his face was still toward the cell door, and I couldn't see much with the faint light the lantern was emitting. "Well…yes."

"Why?"

I shifted my eyes and scrunched my shoulders together. This was a conversation I hadn't intended to have at all with Jack. And it certainly didn't seem necessary. But I answered anyway, no matter how painful it was to remember. "The…the way you looked at me…and then looked at the bottle…heavens, Jack, I been with you long enough to know when you want something, and you certainly wanted the bottle more. I have yet to see you forsake the thing you desire most."

"Then why don't I have it?"

I debated whether to treat this last query as a rhetorical question or not. "I'd imagine because you just couldn't get to it; we all have those times in our lives, where something is truly out of reach, and lesson I'm sure you've learned, no matter how stubbornly determined you are to ignore it."

"So I would prefer the bottle over saving you."

"Yes." I stated it firmly, not allowing any doubt to show.

"Why?"

"Because…you're mad at me. Because…because of what I did, your chance to have the Fountain was lost." My own voice was shaking; yet on the inside, I felt strangely calm. This was the truth. I was sure of it. And no matter how dismal it was, I could say the truth with certainty.

Jack stopped talking, and I could hear his quiet breathing. "You know," he began, "when I realized what had happened on the beach, and why, there was a moment where I really, truly wanted to hurt you. I had worked so hard to get that far, and to have my freedom taken away so suddenly…" he clenched his fists, and I caught myself moving farther away from the bars connecting us, "…anyone who has taken away my freedom is dead…or certainly is _supposed_ to be."

The reason was suddenly very clear in my mind. "I took away your freedom."

"Yes. And…because of it, we might be dead in a little over a week."

"And you're still angry with me."

A moment passed, in which I did not look at him, before he choked out, "No…no, I…can't be mad at you anymore. Not like I was…before."

My breath caught in my throat, both at the statement, and the way he had said it, but I did not dare to push the issue.

Instead, he continued it. "What did you hear in the cave? The one with the…" Jack's voice trailed off, not bothering to finish.

The memory hit me like a sledgehammer, and his voice rang strong and clear. "My family…and Isabella and Arielle. Elizabeth, when Will was dying, and Richard when Ella was kidnapped. And--" I swallowed my words, not sure whether to say them or not, but Jack filled it in for me.

"And you heard me."

I didn't respond.

"What did I say?"

I brushed a stray tear away. "That…that you were angry with me. That I had ruined you're plan, for the Fountain. That…that…" I breathed deeply, waiting for complete control of my voice, "…that if I were to die, you'd be the happiest man alive."

The squeaking of rates could be heard faintly below us, and the sound of the sea outside, lapping up against the sides.

Jack was a statue; his face a mask of calm and indifference. This wasn't the Jack I was used to; not the cocky, arrogant Jack who's thoughts and emotions ran deeper than I thought possible. I didn't know what to say to this stone Jack, the one I could not seem to understand or relate to. This Jack had been following me through the maze, glaring lividly, fighting an internal struggle for his liberty.

So I said the only thing I could muster, the only thing that had haunted me from the moment the voices had shrieked it. "Is it true? What…what I heard?"

His answer was sooner than expected. "I'm…not sure. I…I thought about it, but…" The statue moved, and Jack leaned forward over his knees. "I heard you as well, Finn. And I thought I knew you so well…and the things you were crying, I…I suspected them…but…I never…I never really believed what I was thinking..."

I swallowed. "What do you mean?"

He sighed heavily, and for the first time, Jack sounded like an aged man. "You were telling me…that if I didn't change the way I was, you wanted absolutely nothing to do with me. You said you were going to leave me, no matter what I offered, or what I said. You _insisted _that I wanted the Fountain more than I wanted your love; and you weren't going to stand second to anything, including a 'hunk of floating wood' or a 'puddle of wishes' that surely was not worth the struggle. You were going to leave. And then…you said something…that I was more than I gave myself credit for. You said I could certainly be more than a low class, dingy pirate. But…you kept saying you were going to leave. You were going to leave. No matter what."

I said nothing, but Jack continued anyway, though I dreaded hearing the rest.

"When Belmont captured us on the beach, I felt like a broken man. I had come so far, I was so close, and everything was ruined. I…I hated you, for a brief time, I know I hated you. But I didn't _feel_ myself. As if hating you had turned me into something ugly. Even now…I don't feel myself...though I don't feel bad. I can't understand why. Even when I was dead and in the Locker, I was myself. For the ten years I spent chasing after my ship, I was myself. But now…" He took off his hat, which he seemed to have retrieved at one point, and held it in his hands. "I can't understand it. I mean…" Jack stopped suddenly, and started again just as quickly. "When I came out of that cave, I still wasn't believing what I had heard. I didn't really think that you would leave, though I knew that if you were to leave, I wouldn't like it. Yet I couldn't seem to find it in me to…to forgive you. I did want the Fountain more at that point. I wanted it so much it hurt. Then Belmont tried to force you to drink it, and when you said you didn't want it, cause you didn't want to be young forever…well…" he swallowed and continued softly, "…I couldn't bring myself to drink it. The thought of me staying young forever and…you dying, well, I didn't feel right. I was still mad at you, but even with the water in my hands, part of me just couldn't drink it. I didn't know why. I just couldn't."

I shifted, surprisingly uncomfortable at this sudden confession, one that had not made since before now. What Jack had said of me, leaving despite all he might offer, it had been true. I didn't want him to continue. I suddenly wished that he would remain hating me; then going home would not be such a burden.

"And then…I took the bottle of water, intending to save it, like so many others. I knew I had what I wanted now…and as I was running toward the exit, it occurred to me that maybe I didn't really _have_ you. That was when I tripped and the bottle slipped from my hands into the pool. You were stuck; and the bottle was too far away. I couldn't have both. I thought about everything you had made me lose; my freedom mostly, but also the Fountain. I thought the water would make everything better again. But I _had _to choose. I've _never_ had to choose before." He scooted over to the bars between us. "Finn, come here."

I breathed in sharply. I didn't want to hear this; whatever this was, I didn't want to hear it. So many possibilities running through my head…I wanted desperately to be unconscious again. Or dead. Maybe death wouldn't have been better.

"Jack, listen, I--"

"Come here."

The command was said like Jack would have said it; not the statue, Jack. I peeked over. His hands were hanging through the bars and his eyes were watching me intently. The anger was gone, and replaced by--

No! I had to leave! I knew I had to! To go home, to end this adventure! I needed to! I couldn't afford to have anything more to do with Jack! Why couldn't he hate me? Why did this have to be so difficult? I would rather maneuver the maze to the Fountain again!

"_Finn_, come here."

Jack spoke with a slight twinge of impatience, and too tired to resist anymore, I moved over slightly to where I could see his face better. Inside I cringed. I didn't want to hear this. I couldn't hear this.

"Do you still think I left you?"

I couldn't answer. Tears were dripping down my cheeks, clogging my voice.

His answer was soft and gentle. "It was either saving you or being immortal. I chose you Finn; I gave it all for you."

I started crying, no longer worried of shame or embarrassment. I didn't care. How could I live with my decision, knowing now what Jack had given up for me? How could I leave?

But how could I stay? Jack and I were different; too different. Our wants and needs…they were _too _different. "Jack…" I moaned. "What am I suppose to say?"

"Say that you love me," he countered slyly; glared at him briefly for using my phrase against me.

"Jack…you know I do. But…"I let out a sob and shoved my face into my palms.

"We'll make it work! It will out between us! I've had too many women hand me this card before; we're going to make this work!" His fingers dug into the bars. "Can't you see? I do want you! I don't want my choice to be for naught!"

"Jack…we…oh, Jack! I'm not suppose to even be here! And I want to be married, have a family! How am I suppose to marry a pirate? It…it just wouldn't work! You can't be married! It would be…taking away more of your freedom! I love you…I love you so much it hurts! But unless something changes, we aren't going to be happy! I'm not someone who will wait and hope for the best while you go gallivanting out across the ocean. I'd want you with me as a husband! Marriage isn't just a way for two people to get hooked up; it's a promise of faithfulness! But yes, it's another way to give up freedom, for something hopefully better!" My voice had been getting higher and more frantic through my sobs, but at last I brought it back down softly. "I'm too stubborn to wait helplessly; your too stubborn and set in your ways to change. You're a good man, and I love you."

Jack reached out and snatched my hand, pulling me closer toward him. "So that's it; your going to leave?"

"What else can I do?" I cried out, trying to take my hand back, without results.

Instead, he pulled me closer until I was right up against the bars, feeling his heat and his breath. "Do you honestly think that there is something more to me? That I don't give myself enough credit?"

I let out a shaky breath. "Pirates aren't good people. But you…you aren't evil. You aren't bad. It's…it's as if something happened to make you be a pirate, and you accepted it without a fight. I mean…being a pirate, its…it is _you_…but…a child is meant to be a child until it's time to grow up, and then they become an adult. They don't lose themselves, but they changed. That's what it seems like with you. You were a pirate, it was a part of your life, but now…your capable of being something else. I don't know what, but something else."

Jack stared at me silently, his eyes a storm of emotion and frustration. "I don't know what you entirely mean, Finn." He closed his eyes before continuing. "Just don't leave me. Please. I--" he bit his lip, almost like he was trying to stop begging, and I knew that Jack had never begged for anything before, causing me to feel guilty and miserable. "Finn, I love you. I want you. Stay here. Stay with me. Nothing it going to happen to you. I promise; and this time, I honestly mean it. You'll be safe."

He brought his hand up to stroke my cheek, wiping away the tears. Something about him had changed, like he had said. It wasn't a large change. Just something. Something about the way he talked to me, treated me. I took his hand and held it tightly. Maybe…maybe it would work. I loved him. Maybe there was a chance…

Steps were heard, and Belmont walked in loudly, two soldiers flanking him on either side. Both looked frightened, and I recognized one as Thomas.

"Miss Delaney and Captain Sparrow." The Commodore said no more but looked at us steadily. We dropped our hands, but it made no difference to his orders. "Take Miss Delaney away. We don't appear to have the right…ties broken up. Put her on board the _Pearl_; switch places with Tremaine."

I gasped and grabbed onto Jack's hand again. I knew giving a struggle would do nothing, so I turned to Jack and kissed his hand. "I love you. Remember that." He looked down at his hand and then back up into my eyes, nodding slightly.

Thomas and the other soldier dragged me away, forcing my head to see Belmont sneering at me gleefully. Such was the hate I felt that bile came into my mouth, and I felt sick to the stomach. This wretched, evil, vile creature….he deserved nothing less than torture and death in the most painful fashion. "You _monster_," was all I could spit out.

He leaned down so that his rank breath intruded my face. "Be careful what you say, Miss Delaney. It could very well be your undoing in court." He straightened. "Take her to the deck. She will be transferred shortly. And then…get me Barbossa. I wish to speak with him."

With numerous apologies, the two soldiers took me away, but I was hardly paying attention. Barbossa? What did Belmont want with Barbossa?

I was able to get one fleeting glance of Jack before he disappeared into the dark gloom of the brig. I couldn't see his face, but I knew he was watching me past the guards on either side.

"I wish..." I whispered to myself, but didn't finish the sentence with the intended phrase, instead staying, "...that you would feel better Jack."

Maybe...if we could just get out alive...

A sensation around my neck caused me to look down.

There was a glowing happening, right where the pocket-watch was resting. And for a brief moment I forget my fate, I forgot the unknown I was being put into.

_I wish..._


	37. Escape

AN: Yay! Last chapter! I am SO SORRY for waiting...how long was that? --like four months?-- to post again. But I'm sure many of you have experienced our little friend 'writers block'...so...

Seeing as this is the end of the story thus far, I thought it might interest those of you who have been following the story to learn a little but more about it.

So here is some...Interesting Information:

1. The characters were originally based off of me and my best friend; after getting through about five chapters, I realized that Finn and Ella were nothing like us. I can honestly say that they are completely independent characters (meaning they are based off no one).

2. The was absolutely no romance planned. At all. For either girl.

3. The original characters that I had were: Finn, Ella, Elizabeth, Jack, Belmont, Arielle, Isabella, and Barbossa. Arielle and Isabella were suppose to play a larger role. Richard and Dawson popped out of nowhere, and Odessa was created right as I was writing that chapter. Will wasn't suppose to make any entrance whatsoever.

4. The map was, in fact, suppose to be a hologram, like in Treasure Planet. But then I decided maybe these natives shouldn't be technologically advanced after all.

5. The story was planned to be twenty chapters.

6. The title, _All For You_, is only there because at the moment I was attempting to create a title for this story, I was listening to that song, done by Sister Hazel. And it seemed to be relevant. As it turns out, after listening to the song many other times, it's now pretty much the theme of the story as well; if stories can have theme songs.

7. The phrase "all for you" really, truly, refers to Ella and Finn, mostly about how they would be willing to do anything to get back to each other. I hope that this is more or less obvious throughout the story; though when Jack and Finn are talking, it was just too good of a spot _not_ to put it…

8. This chapter (Escape) originally never existed. Belmont was suppose to be killed at the island, and everyone would live happily ever after. Then came the idea of a sequel…and I realized some things needed to remain unresolved.

9. And lastly, I wrote the beginning with absolutely no intention of a sequel. The man at the doorstep, and the nine men dressed in black: they had no meaning other than to bring the map and scare the bee-jeebies out of the girls. _However_…

Many thanks to all my readers. I love the support you give, and so I am now dedicating this last chapter to all of you. Consider it a Christmas present ;)

As always, enjoy.

* * *

There were three things going through my head as I walked up to the deck to transfer to the _Pearl_.

One. I was switching places with Richard. This proved that Belmont had complete control over where everyone went and how they were to behave. This was not good.

Two. Why did Belmont want anything to do with Barbossa? And for that matter…was Barbossa even locked up?

Three. _My pocket-watch was glowing._

This was the event I had been waiting to happen for four years. Of all the times to occur, it was just my luck that it was now.

I wish. That one phrase. That was all it took to make this stupid pocket-watch work.

Memories came back with such a rush it nearly knocked me down. I had wished to come to England during the eighteenth century, on the coast somewhere. Ella had wished to come with me. How could I have not remembered those details? How?

Everything made sense now. And everything was possible. I could wish to get out of this mess…

I frowned, hardly noticing as the soldiers brought me onto the deck of the _Pearl_. That was too vague of a wish. The last wish I had made had landed my best friend and I in the middle of the ocean where we nearly drowned. More specific wishes were needed.

And I could _not _just depend on the wishes; even I couldn't guess how much trouble that might bring. Only in the most dire situation would I depend on the pocket watch, and that meant I needed to plan out another way to escape, for surely that was the only way I, along with my friends, was going to get out of this alive.

I glanced over at the opposing ship, the _Pearl_. Soldiers definitely outnumbered any pirates, but if the soldiers had been willing to desert Belmont earlier, than hopefully they would still be considering that option.

Escape. I looked around, ready to do _something_, but realized quickly that to do anything was ridiculous and foolhardy. We were surrounded by ocean. Miles of ocean. Time was needed, though the thought of waiting was frustrating. Time to plan, time to spread the word, time to get some luck…

I was put into a cell next to the remaining pirate crew, all of whom appeared less than vibrant, and for a brief few seconds, I was able to make eye contact with Richard before he was toted away, mouthing "We're going to live." I wasn't sure if he saw me, though.

The cell door clanged shut, but before the soldiers could leave, I called for Thomas, the nice soldier who had given my the water, to come back. He hesitated before facing me. "Yes?"

"If there was a way to escape from Belmont, would you take it?" I whispered.

He shifted his eyes warily toward the entrance before coming closer so that only I could hear his answer, though I noticed some of the pirates suddenly listening intently. "Of course I would take it; he's a madman. But for what's happened…if I don't stick with him, I might die. My family is depending on me to survive."

"You might die anyway," I said. "He is mad. You can't depend on his word." We looked at each other before I added, "Everybody here needs to escape."

Thomas nodded. "And given the chance, I'm sure most of the sailors would take it."

"Would any stay with Belmont?"

"Only those whose fortunes depend on him. About a third of the men."

"So we would have a majority?"

"What are you planning?"

I grimaced. "Nothing really…just…trying to understand. Go back up before you're missed. Thank you."

He nodded and trotted away, leaving me to think in silence. A definite majority…

* * *

Two weeks later. From the way the pirates had been talking, we ought to be very near Port Royal, which only made me antsy and impatient.

Most of the reason was because I had been planning the entire time, with the help of the pirate crews. There wasn't any organized rebellion, but different scenarios had been worked out, like if all the soldiers sided with us, or it they sided with Belmont, or if we only got control of one ship. It was interesting to talk to them; most were navy deserters, and had good insights into what would happen if we started revolting.

Unfortunately, we hadn't been able to think of anyway of communicating to the rest of the captives our plan, though I had a distinct impression that the pirates didn't care what happened to the others as much as I did. All we knew for certain was that if we were going to act, we needed to be orderly and effective before Belmont knew what was happening.

Of course, with the usual amount of luck I have, all the planning came to naught. Something entirely unexpected happened. We were released.

Okay, released is not the best verb for this instant, but we were all led out onto deck with very minimal soldier protection (and not tied up for that matter), though once we were on deck, I quickly saw why. Port Royal was in the distance.

Belmont had something planned.

I glanced down at my pocket watch, wondering if this might be my dire situation. But what would I wish for? I couldn't think of anything specific.

We were led to the deck of the _Hildegard_ where I saw Jack, Richard, and Ella standing there. Will and Elizabeth were being led from the _Flying Fortune_. What in the world…?

"We are less than an hour's journey away from our destination," shouted Belmont from the helm. "And I have certain…propositions to make, but which only applies to a few." At this comment, I saw Jack and Richard being threatened with guns. The propositions must not apply to them.

After smirking widely and surveying his men, Belmont marched up to me first, his eyes flashing wildly. "My wish for you is very simple: testify against Sparrow and Tremaine, and I can guarantee your life and Miss Bronte's life will be spared, and no charges against you."

Initially, I couldn't say anything from my shock, but my answer was firm and quick. "I'd rather burn in Hell."

Belmont was hardly fazed by my response, instead grinning maliciously as he moved onto Ella. "Miss Bronte," he drawled, and I noticed that his posture had changed significantly so that he was somehow straighter and regal, "my proposition for you is…somewhat different. For quite some time I have admired you from afar--"

Ella's eyes widen in disgust and glanced at me, begging for support. All I could muster the strength for was a small shrug.

"--and have long wished that you might one day…stand by my side. Agree to be my wife, and I can assure you that not only will you remain alive, but so will Lieutenant Tremaine."

I could see Richard tense up, and Jack's eyes were boring holes into the Commodore's head, no doubt furious that he had been left out of the equation.

Ella looked at me, absolute abhorrence written on her expression. _Take it_, I mouthed, _You'll live._

For the first time in a long time, she glared at me openly before turning to Belmont and spitting into his face. "Well, Commodore, I can say that I have _never_ admired you, from near or far; my answer is the same as Finn's."

Belmont was nonplused at the response, glancing around, almost as if he was ashamed at being rejected, but continued to Will and Elizabeth nonetheless. "The infamous Turners. You hold a long friendship with Sparrow, do you not?"

Their only response was tight expressions.

"Jack will remain alive, if only you testify against the remaining few. A simple request."

"We have nothing to testify of," spat Elizabeth, gripping Will's arm. "Once your true conduct reaches the ears of the king, and Parliament for that matter--"

"Political threats are hardly an issue, Mrs. Turner," snarled Belmont before backhanding her. Without missing a beat, Will had punched the Commodore squarely in the jaw before being repressed by five soldiers.

Belmont then turned to the remains of the pirate crews, including Barbossa, who stood there looking more cocky than usual. "Men, your captains are either dead or in custody. All I ask of you is this: that if any situation I might need your force of arms, you will fight for me. I can guarantee clemency and protection from here on out. Just be my mercenaries. I have already spoken to Barbossa, who has agreed to this arrangement, and he will be willing to serve as your captain. What do you say?"

I glanced over at Jack, who wore a stony, blank expression toward his own crew. Only Gibbs, Cotton, and the one-legged man named Mason stepped away from the bulk of the men, signifying their loyalties remained with their original captain.

The rest of the pirates nodded among themselves before raising a cheer for Belmont, and at the sound of that cheer, I felt my hope dripping away. The pirates, the ones I had been depending on to get us out of this mess, had betrayed us. At that moment, I understood an inkling of what Jack must have felt like when being mutinied, a story he had told me at one point, and one Elizabeth had shared; upon thinking of Jack, I peeked over at him and met his hardened expression. We looked at each other for a moment before his expression softened slightly and he tried to give me a grin. I attempted to return it, but without much luck, though his gesture of kindness was making his moment a little easier to bear. We both knew we were dead, and that this was the end.

"Commodore! The docks! It's lined with soldiers!" shouted a fellow in the crow's nest. "And their armed!"

Belmont ran to the railing, tugging at his spyglass. "They…they look like their preparing to arrest us," he hissed. In one motion he grabbed his head and collapsed to his knees only to rise again and yell. "How would they know? Nothing…nothing could have given us away!" He turned to frantically pacing the deck, muttering incoherent phrases to himself.

The soldiers looked at themselves, fright filling their gazes, and the prisoners lifted their heads with hope. I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my blood. We were going to escape this! Whatever had occurred, we might just make it out alive. Hope was rising fast, and I had to supress a smile.

"Clarissa," I heard Elizabeth whisper to Will. "Clarissa was never recaptured after Port Royal was attacked. She would have told her father everything!"

Belmont halted, apparently hearing Elizabeth's comment. "Clarissa! How could I have been so foolish? After all my hard planning…" Brandishing his sword, he ordered, "Turn this ship around. We are heading for England."

I could feel the bile rising to my mouth as horror enveloped me. No. If we left the safety of Port Royal now, we would _never_ make it out alive. I had to do something.

Create chaos.

Turning to Ella, I motioned to the soldier behind us, hinting at hitting him in the gut. Taking the cue, she elbowed him hard, and I grabbed his gun.

I hadn't quite decided _what_ I was going to do once the soldier was down, but I automatically pointed the gun toward the horizon and shot.

It had the exact effect I was hoping for. Instantly Will and Elizabeth attacked their confused captors, and Jack was already wielding his sword expertly. Over the shouts of confusion, I heard Richard cry out, "Get the Commodore! Arresting him is our only hope!"

I stepped back, grabbing Ella's hand. Chaos was happening, and it had only taken seconds. Soldiers were fighting soldiers and pirates and pirates were attacking who ever got in their way. The sides seemed evenly divided; plenty of navy men were against the Commodore, as Thomas had suggested, but the pirates seemed to have sided with Belmont, led by none other than Barbossa.

I looked at Ella, and despite the fighting going on around us, I stammered out, "I know how to get us home."

Before she could respond, a bullet whizzed between us, and we fell apart, screaming.

Boots were everywhere, and I scrambled up only to be faced with a pirate charging me with his cutlass. Ducking, I hit him with the gun I still held in my hand, now utterly useless except as a club since I had used its one shot.

And so I fought, running aimlessly around, trying to find Jack or Ella, both of whom had disappeared, as now seemed to be normal in any bad situation I was faced with.

Smoke was everywhere; someone seemed to have set fire to something, and it was hard to see, not to mention breathe. In an attempt to gain some insight to what was happening, I headed toward the helm and crouched behind a barrel to remain out of sight.

Will, Elizabeth, and Gibbs had somehow maneuvered themselves back to the _Pearl_ along with a great bulk of the enemy and friends. And now, sitting here somewhat away from the action, I could see why. The _Hildegard_ was burning, and fast. I needed to get off. I rushed down from the helm and shoved my way toward the plank that connected the two ships, but before I reached it, Belmont appeared and pushed it away into the sea below.

I skidded to a halt, no doubt pale. "We're going to die now!" I screeched, wanting nothing more than to push _him_ into the sea.

"And so ends the great adventure of Winifred Delaney," he cackled coming forward. "Yes, _you_ are going to die now." He held up his bottle of the Water and a gun.

I backed away until a group of fighting soldiers and pirates blocked me from view, and then I sprinted away, colliding with none other than Ella.

"We need to leave _now_," I yelled. "Belmont is going to kill us if this ship doesn't first."

"How?" shrieked Ella, yanking me toward somewhere with less action.

Another bullet flew between us, but I continued anyway. "I can get us home. You just need to wish! Watch: I wish to go back to…to the place I was before we were transported to this time."

Ella's eyes widen as she saw my pocket-watch glow.

"Wish to go with me," I prompted. "And then hold onto me. I think we need to be touch the watch or the person with the watch for it to work."

Another bullet, this one grazing my hair. I screamed and stumbled back.

"I wish to go with Finn," said Ella, but she pulled back her hand. "And I wish Richard to come with me." She touched my arm.

"And I wish Jack to come with me," I added.

We both looked out to the deck, filled with fighting, desperate men. I couldn't see Jack, and I was sure Ella couldn't see Richard. "Are they still on this ship?" I asked.

"I didn't see them leave for the _Pearl_."

Another bullet, this time grazing Ella's back.

Pirates were charging us, sword glinting dangerously in the flames of the fire.

Heat was crawling up my back.

_Please work_.

I rubbed the glowing ruby.

* * *

Everything went black.

We were tumbling…

Falling…

Spinning…

SMACK!

My whole body crashed into something that was hard and painful, only to be smashed by another body. Blood oozed from my check, the one touching the hard surface; I had probably skinned my face.

The air was cool, like dusk right after the sun has gone down. But it wasn't humid, not like the ocean. In fact, it didn't smell like the ocean at all…more foresty…

Groans were heard, and at the noise, I opened my eyes. Beside me lay three bodies.

Ella. Richard. Jack.

And around us were houses. Normal, twenty-first century houses.

It had worked.

Strangely enough, at the realization that I was home, I didn't react quite the way I had envisioned it. Instead of leaping up in joy, I sighed. I was home.

Home.

Tears dripped down my face, but I was smiling anyway. Safe. Home. Home…

"What the--" I heard Richard mutter. He sat up, and so did Jack, both clearly scared. Their eyes were wide, and their bodies tensed.

"It's okay," I laughed, "there's nothing to be afraid of. We're--"

My words were cut short as a gun was jammed next to my temple.

"No talking. From anyone. Now get up and walk toward that white van. No questions, just do."

Turning around, I saw nine men dressed in black, all pointing pistols at us.

I caught Ella's eye, and I knew my expression must match her own.

_What in the world…?_

**TO BE CONTINUED...**


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